We Were Built to Fall Apart (Then Fall Back Together)
by seetherrayne
Summary: Stiles and Lydia have been dating since right before the end of Junior year. Now that they've started Senior year, Lydia can't wait to graduate and continue her life plan with Stiles by her side. College, marriage, Fields Medal, kids. She had it all planned out. But as it is in her life, things never go as planned...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, guys! I've been sitting on this one for a while, because I wanted to do it right. This is probably the sixth draft of it, and it's the one I like. I have a few chapters written over the past few weeks already, which I wanted to do so I didn't have you guys waiting forever for the next chapter.**

 **It's basically an alternate season 5, Senior Year and all. I hope you enjoy!**

''''''''''

Lydia stood in the dark, deserted hallway, confused. Why was she at the high school in the middle of the night? Did she go into a fugue state? She thought that she was over that if she was being honest. It had been so long since that last one that she thought that her powers had evolved past that.

Apparently she was wrong.

A soft noise came from down the hall, causing her blood to run cold. It wasn't a sound that she was used to hearing. She could handle thuds, crashes, roars, and screams, but this was brand new. She didn't know how to handle a –

She heard it again, louder this time. There was a light pause, and then a wail pierced the otherwise silent building.

There was a baby down there.

Dread filled her and tears filled her eyes as she slowly made her way towards the sound. She was terrified at what she might find. The baby was obviously still alive, but what caused it to cry? What was in there with it?

Her chest tightened as she stopped short. Someone – or something – could be in there with that baby, and it could hurt it. A surge of protectiveness ran through her. She needed to get to that baby now.

She slipped off her heels, leaving them in the hall as she ran towards the crying. She would pause every few feet, trying to figure out which room it was coming from, peeking her head into rooms every now and then to make sure her ears weren't playing tricks on her.

Finally, it got to the point where the noise easily could have deafened her, and as she peeked into the classroom to her right, she saw a white bassinet next to the desk. Sighing in relief she started towards it, but right before she got to the threshold, the door was slammed in her face, causing her to jump back in surprise. She tried the door handle, but it wasn't budging. Panic grew in her chest as the seconds ticked by. _She had to get to the baby_.

She stood on her tiptoes, trying to look through the window in the door, cursing herself for leaving her heels so far away. She could just see into the room, the top of the bassinet in clear view. A figure was standing over it, but it was too dark to get a good look at it.

Odd. She could see the bassinet perfectly, but everything else was covered in shadows.

Banging on the door, she tried to get the attention of the figure as it stared at the wailing child. There was something ominous about it. She couldn't place why she felt that way. All she knew was that she had to get the baby out of there.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Leave it alone! Leave the baby alone!"

The figure paid her no mind, reaching into the bassinet, and Lydia swore she saw the glint of metal in its hands.

Panic filled her as she doubled her efforts to get the door open.

"NO!" She screamed. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT! IT'S JUST A BABY! PLEASE!"

Her shoulder was sore from ramming into the door, and she leaned her forehead against it as she kept banging, screaming. She couldn't look through the window again, she was too afraid. The next words left her mouth before she could process it.

"LEAVE MY BABY ALONE!"

''''''''''

She woke up, gasping, almost hyperventilating. She was in her room. It was a dream. Wasn't it?

Heart pounding, she picked up her phone and found the number she needed.

"Lydia?" the voice on the other end said, worry mixing with grogginess. "What's wrong?"

"Scott, listen to me," she told him, struggling to get the words out as she tried to steady her breathing. "We need to get to the school. Now."

"Why? What's going on?"

She took a deep breath, knowing how crazy she was going to sound. "I think that there's a baby stuck there with some psycho."

"Are you sure?" he was definitely awake now.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I just woke up from a dream about it, but God, Scott, it felt so real."

"Okay, okay," he soothed. "Stiles and I will meet you there in five minutes, okay?"

She nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her. "Okay."

She hung up, threw her slipper boots on, and was out the door in less than a minute.

''''''''''

"It has to be here somewhere," she said, exasperated.

"We've looked everywhere," Scott answered as they went into a classroom for the third time. "I don't know where else to look."

They had been there for two hours, searching the school top to bottom, but there was no sign of a baby or a psycho.

Lydia sunk into a chair, putting her head in her hands. "Maybe it was just a dream. I'm sorry I dragged you guys out of bed."

"Don't be sorry," Stiles told her, rubbing her back gently. "It's better to search and find nothing than to blow it off and find a dead baby the next morning."

The thought of a dead baby horrified her. She had seen dead bodies – more than most people do in their lifetime – but she couldn't handle the sight of a dead baby, not in the mess that she's seen some bodies.

"I wouldn't be able to handle that," she said, shaking her head.

"None of us would," Scott said. "So it's probably a good thing that it was just a dream."

"Yeah," she said, pulling out her phone and checking the time. "I need to go get ready for when school actually starts."

"Yeah, me too," Stiles said. "Let's go."

Lydia stood up and took Stiles' hand, squeezing it. "Thank you guys for coming, even if it was for nothing."

"Better safe than sorry, right?" Stiles said, bringing her hand to his mouth and kissing it. "See you in a little bit?"

"Of course," she said.

''''''''''

Stiles and Lydia had been dating since right before prom of junior year. Stiles and Malia mutually decided that they would be better off as friends and pack-mates, and Lydia finally admitted her feelings to Stiles.

They were now a month into senior year, and she couldn't be happier.

Stiles walked beside her as they made their way to class, holding her hand and rubbing his thumb across hers.

"Do you want to come over and review for the Calculus test tomorrow?" she asked him as they stopped at his locker.

"Are we actually going to be reviewing things?" he replied, leaning in close to her. "Or are we going to be doing more…enjoyable things?"

She smirked, playing coy. "I don't see why we can't do both."

"I'm in." He opened his locker and pulled out the books he needed. "What time?"

"You could come over right after school. We could get a good review in, have dinner, and since my mom has a girls' night tonight, move on to more _enjoyable_ activities." She waggled her eyebrow at him to emphasize the last part.

"Sounds good to me," he said, shutting his locker. "But…I kind of have detention."

"Detention?" she asked "Why?"

"For skipping track practice this morning," he told her, shrugging. "Not a big deal."

She bit her lip, guilt creeping into her stomach. "It was because of me, wasn't it? You overslept?"

"It's not your fault," he said, taking her hand. "How many times have we been out all hours of the night and I still made it to practice?"

"I still feel bad," she told him, squeezing his hand.

"Don't," he insisted. The bell rang. "Let's get to class. I don't want you to get detention, too."

"Well, atleast we would be together," she said, as they started walking again. "Maybe get some of that studying done."

Stiles laughed, shaking his head. "I doubt it. I have detention with Finstock, which will probably involve something with sports equipment."

"Okay, yeah. So not worth it."

''''''''''

"Do you hear that?" Malia asked at lunch.

"Hear what?" Kira replied.

"It's weird," she said. "It's like a really fast heartbeat."

"Maybe someone's nervous or excited?" Lydia suggested, picking at her salad with slight distaste. Her stomach was feeling weird today, and she didn't want to upset it any further.

Malia shook her head. "It doesn't sound like that."

"Than what does it sound like?" Kira asked.

"I don't know," Malia shrugged. "It's just…weird."

"What's weird?" Liam asked, sitting down next to Lydia.

"Do you hear that sound?" Malia asked. "Sounds kind of like a heartbeat."

Liam listened for a minute, his face scrunching up in confusion. "Yeah, I do. Where is it coming from?"

"I don't know," she told him. "It's weird, right?"

Liam nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"What's weird?" Scott asked as he and Stiles sat down.

"Oh my God!" Lydia exclaimed, annoyance flaring up as she dropped her fork into her salad. "Malia and Liam are hearing a weird noise and don't know what it is or where it's coming from."

"You don't have to snap," Malia said. "It's rude, right, Stiles?"

She still looked to him for social cues, seeing as he's the one who taught her most of them.

"Sorry," Lydia said. "It's just annoying when you've already heard the whole exchange twice."

"It's okay," Kira told her.

Stiles squeezed her hand under the lunch table as they kept talking. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied, giving him a small smile. "Just…tired."

"I'll come over right after detention, okay?" he told her.

"Okay," she said.

''''''''''

Lydia sat in history, bored out of her mind. She already knew what the teacher was talking about, and didn't care to learn about it again.

She looked over at Scott, knowing he had to be just as bored – he hated history – but found him staring at her curiously.

"What?" she mouthed, feeling self-conscious under his stare. He looked completely perplexed, like he was trying to figure something out.

He shook his head, mouthing back, "later."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not satisfied with his answer. "This is _not_ over."

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Lydia picked up her notebook, threw her bag over her shoulder, and grabbed Scott's arm. "It's later."

Scott nodded, leading her out into the hallway. They pushed through the crowd until Lydia pulled them into the janitor's closet. She spun around to face Scott in the darkness. "What's wrong?"

"The noise is coming from you," Scott said.

"What?"

"The noise that we heard at lunch," he explained. "It's coming from you."

She took a step back. "What does that mean?"

"Well…It does sound like a really fast heartbeat," He rubbed the back of his neck, obviously uncomfortable. "Look, I know that this is probably way too personal, but…have you and Stiles...you know…been intimate?"

"You mean have we had sex?" she asked, panic starting to set in. "I'm pretty sure you know the answer to that!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just –"

"You're sure that it's a heartbeat?" she asked, desperate. This couldn't be happening. She was still in high school. She just put in applications to all of the Ivy Leagues. She had just applied to Stanford. She couldn't do this.

"I'm sure," Scott told her. "It sounds like the sonograms I've heard at the hospital –"

"Don't tell Stiles," she snapped, looking him in the eyes. "You can't tell anybody."

"I wasn't planning on it," he said, taken aback. "Lydia, just calm down, okay –"

"I can't calm down!" she said. "I am a senior in high school! All of the Ivy League schools will probably accept me, and my biggest decision should be which one to choose! Not…not…God, Scott! What am I going to do?"

She buried her face in her hands, trying her best not to completely break down. It wasn't working very well.

"God, Scott," she sobbed as she leaned against a shelf. "How could this happen?"

"Hey, hey. It's alright, okay." Scott pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight. "You just…you just need to take some time and think about this. And remember that you're not alone in this, whatever your decision is."

She nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Scott was right. She did have options. It wasn't the end of the world. Even if she did decide to keep the baby, she could work it out. With Stiles. They could figure it out. They always did.

''''''''''

 **I'd love to hear what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

Another positive pregnancy test.

She knew that she was pregnant, she was sure of it – a werewolf hearing a second heartbeat is much more accurate than any home pregnancy test – but she had to see for herself.

So now she was looking at five positive pregnancy tests, and she still wasn't sure how to handle all of it.

She was seventeen and pregnant. She was literally a Lifetime Movie.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered the tests and threw them in the trash. She had to tell Stiles. She had to tell her mom. God, how was she going to tell her mom? She would be so disappointed.

Part of her was telling her that her mother didn't have to know. That if her and Stiles decided that the best option would be to terminate the pregnancy, she would never have to tell her mother. But she knew that she had to either way. This wasn't something that she wanted to keep from her mother. She was already keeping too much.

She was going to tell her. She was. She just…had to find the right time. Figure out how to say it the right way. But she didn't have that option with Stiles. He had to know right away so they could make a decision.

"Lydia? Where are you?"

She jumped, not expecting the voice calling for her.

"Sweetheart?" her mother called out. "Are you home?"

"Yeah," she called back, cringing at the obvious panic in her voice. She cleared her throat and took a breath before continuing. "I'll be out in a second."

She took a few more deep breaths, trying to ease the panic wreaking havoc inside of her. She wasn't ready to tell her. She didn't know what she would even say.

"Is everything okay?" Her mother asked, her voice closer, like she had stepped into Lydia's room.

"Fine," Lydia answered, satisfied at the nonchalance in her tone. Opening the door, she gave her mother a small smile. "What's up? I thought that you were going straight to dinner."

"Well, I ended up having time to come freshen up," her mom explained. "And I wanted to check on you."

"Why do you need to check on me?" Lydia asked, her heartrate picking up speed as she sat on the edge of her bed. Is this what they meant by mother's intuition? Did she already know, or at the very least suspect?

"I can't check in on my daughter?" she asked, sitting next to her, looking at her curiously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Lydia told her, getting up and walking towards her dresser. "I just don't understand why you feel like you need to check in on me. I'm eighteen, you know."

"I realize that," her mom said, staying on the bed. "I also know that – for the most part – you are a good kid. But I still worry about you, and want to check in on you, and that's not gonna change even when you're eighty."

She bit her lip, eyes stinging. Damn hormones. At least, that's what she was going to blame it on. She blinked before turning back around. "I get it, and I appreciate it, I really do. Now go freshen up and have your girls' night."

"Are you sure everything's okay, sweetheart?" her mother asked, standing up and taking Lydia's hand, concern overtaking her features. "I can stay home if you need me to."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Go have fun."

Her mom smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Alright. I won't be too late. I love you."

"Love you, too," she replied as her mom went to her room.

Lydia closed the door, taking yet another deep breath. She was starting to get lightheaded, if she was being honest. As she sat back on her bed, she couldn't help but feel guilt settle in. As much as she had lied to her mother, she should be used to it. For the most part she was. But usually she was used to lying to her mother so she didn't get killed.

Her phone buzzed, causing her to jump. It was a text from Stiles. _On my way._

She laid back, trying to keep the panic from rising. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she knew that she had to tell him tonight. If Scott was able to hear the heartbeat, she was atleast six to eight weeks, so the sooner they made a decision, the better.

''''''''''

"You think I'm gonna pass?" Stiles asked.

"I'm pretty confident," she told him. "Just remember to thank me when you get an A."

They had been studying for close to two hours, and Lydia had been so focused on the problems that she had almost forgotten her problem. She hadn't told Stiles yet, thinking that he should get some studying in before she turns his world upside down.

He chuckled, pulling her in for a kiss. "So…now we can do some more enjoyable activities, right?"

 _This is what got you pregnant in the first place, remember?_

The intrusive thought pulled her out of her desire.

Stiles got up before she could say anything. "I'll be right back."

"Wait," Lydia said as he closed the door to the bathroom. "We need to talk."

"Just give me a second," he said.

"What are you doing?" she asked, curious.

She heard him sigh, and then he was peeking his head out of the door. "I've had three Dr. Peppers since I got here. A bladder can only hold so much, Lydia."

He closed the door again, leaving Lydia to lay back on the bed. "Just hurry. We really need to talk."

"You're starting to scare me," he said. "Are you going to break up with me?"

"No!" she called back. "It's nothing like that. It's just…something that we need to talk about."

She heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on, taking a deep breath as her anxiety made her lightheaded. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm herself down. She knew that Stiles was going to completely freak, and she needed to be somewhat calm for him.

The door still hadn't opened, which was odd. It shouldn't take him that long to dry his hands.

"Stiles?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"

It was silent on the other side of the door.

"Stiles?" She sat up on the edge of the bed, worry replacing anxiety. Still no reply. "Stiles?"

She stood up, walking towards the door. It opened before she got very far. Stiles was pale – well, paler than usual – shock covering his face.

"Stiles?" She stopped when she saw the expression on his face.

He shut his eyes and blew out a breath. "Please, _please_ tell me that this isn't yours."

Her gaze went to his hand as he held up one of the positive pregnancy tests.

Dread kept her rooted to where she was standing. She had meant to take out the trash in there before he got there – mainly so her mom didn't find them – but also because she didn't want something like this to happen.

"Stiles –"

"How long?" he asked, his voice strained. "How long have you known?"

"This afternoon," she admitted, her voice small. She hadn't seen him this distressed in a long time, and it scared her.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you tell me that you even suspected that you were?"

"Because I didn't suspect anything!" she told him, hoping that he understood. "It didn't even cross my mind until Scott –"

"Scott knew before me?" he yelled, finally looking her in the eye. Now he was just pissed. He brushed past her and started pacing across the floor, the test still in his hand. "Why the hell would you tell Scott before you told me?"

"I didn't!" she said, taking a few steps closer to him. "If you would let me finish, I can explain!"

He stopped pacing, flinging out his hands in frustration. "Explain."

She nodded. "Thank you. Like I said, I didn't even suspect that I might be pregnant. As careful as we are, it didn't even cross my mind, okay? But do you remember when Malia was complaining about the weird noise at lunch, but she couldn't tell where it was coming from?"

"And you snapped when Scott asked?" Stiles asked. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well," she continued. "When Scott and I were in history, he gave me this weird look. So after class, he told me that the sound was coming from me and that it sounded like a heartbeat. A _second_ heartbeat."

"Oh my God," he breathed out, running a hand through his hair. "So there's no possibility that this is a false positive."

"That and considering I took five of them," Lydia said, crossing her arms.

He started pacing again, obviously on the verge of freaking out. "This can't be happening. This cannot be happening. I just put in an application to Stanford, I can't be a – a father!"

She knew that he was thinking out loud, but his breathing was getting shallower, and she really didn't want him to have a panic attack. So she stepped in front of him to stop his pacing, placing her hands on his shoulder. "You need to calm down."

"I know, I know." He took a few deep breaths, sitting back on the bed and running his hands down his face. "What are we going to do?"

"We have options," she said, sitting down next to him. "For one, you don't have to be a father at all if you don't want to be, even if I decide to keep it. If you're not ready to be a father, I completely understand, I'm not ready to be a mother. But no matter what I end up doing, I'm not forcing you into any of it. You can walk away right now."

"Are you kidding?" he asked, taking her hand. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. This is my responsibility, too. You're not doing this alone."

"I haven't said what I'm going to do yet," she told him.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"I don't even know what I want to do," she admitted. "But you get a say in this. We have some time before three choices become two."

"What are you thinking?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"Too much," she said, letting out a small laugh. "I keep thinking that terminating the pregnancy would be the best option, but I don't want to jump into any decision, you know?"

Stiles nodded. "It's your decision to make. I can say whatever I want, but in the end, it's your decision. You're the one that has to go through the pregnancy, so it's up to you."

"I wanted to tell my mom before we make a decision," she told him. "I feel like I'm keeping enough from her, you know?"

"Do you think she'll try to persuade you one way or the other?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Not with the pregnancy and whether I decide to abort it or not. But even if I do go through with the pregnancy, she won't want me to keep it."

"I don't even know how my dad's going to react," he admitted. "I'm kind of scared to find out."

Lydia leaned into him, looking at their intertwined hands. "You don't have to tell him until we make a decision. Not if you don't want to."

"Do you not want me to tell him?" he asked.

"No, it's not that at all," she said, shifting to look him in the eye. "Whether your dad knows or not is completely up to you. If you feel like you need to tell him, do it. I just don't want you to feel like you have to."

He nodded. "Okay."

Stiles let go of her hand, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. They stayed like that for a while, each lost in their thoughts.

''''''''''

Stiles stepped into the house, his mind going a million miles a minute. He couldn't believe what was happening. His girlfriend – the girl he had loved since elementary school – was pregnant.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. He had always planned on having kids. He just didn't want them _now._ He wanted them when he would be ready to be a father, and he definitely wasn't ready to be a father.

But that didn't mean that he wanted her to get an abortion. If she wanted to, he would support her in that, but that was her choice to make. He didn't want to suggest, or coerce, or do anything to make her think that was her only option.

"How'd the studying go?"

"Whoa!" Stiles spun around, realizing that he was in the kitchen, standing in front of the fridge. His dad was standing at the counter, an apple in his hand. "Don't do that, Dad! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry," his dad said, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just curious."

"Yeah, I know," he said, calming down slightly. "It went fine."

"Just fine?" his dad asked.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "Just fine. Nothing out of the ordinary, just studying for a test. It actually really tired me out, so I'm gonna go to bed."

He turned around to go upstairs, but his dad stopped him. "Stiles, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, facing his father. "Nothing's going on."

His dad looked at him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Something's up."

"No it's – "

"Don't lie, Stiles," his dad ordered. "You're shaken up about something. Now what is it?"

He sighed, knowing that keeping this from his dad would be too much. Surprising how the fact that werewolves and the supernatural exist is easy to keep from people, but telling your father that you knocked up your girlfriend – which is much more common, especially in comparison – is the hard thing to keep from him.

"I actually do have something to tell you," he said, anxiety clawing at his chest. "But I'm going to need you to step away from the knife block. You also may want to sit down."

"I'm not moving," his dad said.

"Can you atleast not eat the apple?" he asked. "I don't want you to choke."

"Stiles," his dad said, exasperated as he put the apple down. "Just tell me."

"I fucked up," he blurted out. "I fucked up big time."

"Are you not prepared for the test tomorrow?" his dad asked. "Did you get the date wrong?"

"No, it's not about school," Stiles explained. "It's…it's about Lydia. And me."

"Did you break up?" he inquired. "Son, I'm sorry – "

"No, we didn't break up."

"Than what the hell did you do?" his dad asked, looking confused.

"Good news or bad news?" Stiles asked.

"How about both?" his dad deadpanned.

Stiles took a deep breath. "Good news is, Lydia's possibly going to be the mother of your grandchildren – "

"Oh, God, you didn't propose to her –"

"Bad news is that it's possibly going to be in the next nine months." He rushed the words out of his mouth, knowing that the faster he got them out the better. His dad still understood them, however, which was evident as his eyes widened and the anger flared up on his face.

"What?" his dad asked, raising his voice only slightly. "Stiles, please tell me that you're joking!"

"I'm being completely serious," he muttered. He refused to look at his father, looking down at his fingers and counting then instead. Ten fingers. It wasn't a nightmare.

Stiles could feel the anger rolling off of his dad, but there was no blow up, no yelling. He stole a glance at him quickly. He had his eyes closed, taking deep breaths, obviously trying to stay calm. Stiles felt tears well up in his eyes as he looked back down, knowing that he had disappointed his dad and hating every second of silence.

After a moment, the quiet became too much. He cleared the lump out of his throat before he spoke. "Dad…dad, please say something. Yell, scream, something, anything."

"I don't know what to say, Stiles," his dad told him honestly. "What's the point of yelling at you? It won't change anything."

"It'll probably make you feel better," Stiles suggested, shrugging.

"Probably not," he said. "How far along is she?"

"We're not sure," Stiles told him. "We just found out."

"Okay," his dad nodded. "Are you going to keep it?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "She's not even sure if she wants to…continue the pregnancy."

His dad nodded again, slower this time. "I see. What do you want?"

"I'm going to support her in whatever she decides," he explained. "I mean, I'm not ready to be a father, but if she decides to keep it, I'm going to be a part of its life. And if she decides to not, then I'm going to be there for her. Either way, I'm going to be with her every step of the way."

His dad looked him in the eye, studying his face. "Does Lydia know that?"

"Of course."

* * *

 **Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I just want to take a minute to thank you guys. You have no idea how much I appreciate every review and favorite! I love you all!**

* * *

Lydia walked down the hall, determined to stay awake. It had been a week since she found out that she was pregnant, and she immediately cut out coffee to be safe, and she had been feeling the effects the past couple of days.

She and Stiles were no closer to making a decision, and she still hadn't told her mother. She also hadn't been to a doctor to determine how far along she was.

She saw her boyfriend down the hall, talking animatedly to Scott. With a small smile on her face, she made her way over to them.

"Morning," she said, interrupting their conversation. "What are you boys talking about?"

"This stupid project that's due in English," Stiles told her, taking her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good," she answered. "Tired, obviously, but that's expected."

She had been having slight morning sickness the past few days, but nothing as horrible as she had feared. It was mainly just queasiness when she smelled certain things, and a loss of appetite.

"That's good," he said, rubbing his thumb over her hand.

"What's good?" Kira asked, standing next to Scott.

"Just that I'm feeling better today," Lydia told her. Both Kira and Malia knew, as well as Liam. The only reason Derek didn't know was because he was off on some mission with Braeden, and it wasn't something that she wanted to tell him over text or e-mail. If only it was that easy to tell her mother.

"That _is_ good," Kira said. She opened her bag and pulled out a small box. "If you have another bad day, here's some tea that my mom said would help with nausea. I didn't tell her why you were feeling nauseous, though. She just thinks you're sick."

"Thank you," she said, taking the box. "This will help a lot."

"It's not a problem, my mom has all kinds of teas."

The bell rang, causing a rush of people trying to get to class.

"See you in class?" Scott asked.

"Of course," Lydia said. She waited as Stiles pulled a book from his locker. "Ready?"

"Yup," he answered.

The hall was mostly cleared out as they started walking towards class. "I was thinking of maybe making an appointment this afternoon."

"Have you told your mom?" he asked quietly, hyper-aware of the people around them.

"Not yet," she answered, just as quietly. "But I still need to see how far along I am."

"Yeah," he nodded. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"That would actually be great," she said, squeezing his hand.

"Okay," he said. "Just let me know when."

She nodded as they walked into class, the conversation ending for the moment. He was trying to be strong for her, but she knew that he was just as scared as she was. Neither of them had an idea of what to do, and thinking and weighing the options wasn't bringing them any closer to a decision.

''''''''''

Stiles and Lydia sat in the waiting room at the clinic, holding hands as they waited for the doctor.

"Why did you choose to come to a clinic?" he asked softly.

"More anonymity," she said. "And if I went to my OB/GYN, then there was a greater chance of my mom finding out before I tell her."

"Right," he nodded.

"Also," she said. "Here, we can get more information on _all_ of our options."

"True," he agreed. "Either way, it's kind of awkward being one of the only guys."

"It's a women's clinic," she told him. "What did you expect?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "It's just…weird."

The door to the back opened, and a lady in scrubs stepped out. "Martin?"

Stiles and Lydia stood up and followed her back to an examination room.

The nurse took her vitals quickly, her brows drawing together when she took Lydia's blood pressure. "Are you nervous?"

"A little bit," Lydia admitted.

"It's normal," the nurse told her, patting her shoulder. She went to the cabinet in the corner and pulled out a cup before labelling it. "I know you took a test already, but we do need to do a test of our own to be sure, okay?"

Lydia nodded, grabbing the cup. "I know."

"The bathroom's right across the hall," she explained. "If you can't pee a lot, that's okay, we don't need very much. When you're done, just leave it on the counter and I'll get it."

Lydia nodded again. "Gotcha. I'll be right back."

''''''''''

The nurse cleaned up while Lydia left, and Stiles tried to stay quiet as she did her work.

"Are you the baby daddy?" she asked, turning to him.

He looked up from his phone, eyes wide. "What? Uh, yeah."

She nodded, looking him up and down. "And you want to be here?"

"Of course," he said, confused. "Why wouldn't I want to be here?"

"You'd be surprised how many don't, especially at your age," she told him. "It's not very common for the baby daddy to come at all, and if he does, he's usually not happy about it. You're a rarity."

"That sucks," he said, biting his lip. He knew that guys dumped the girls they knocked up a lot, but he could never imagine doing that.

The door opened, Lydia stepping through. She looked surprised that the nurse was still there, but she recovered quickly. "It's in the bathroom, like you said."

"Great," the nurse said. "I'll get that right in. You guys just sit tight until the doctor comes."

The nurse left then, leaving Stiles and Lydia to a slightly awkward silence. He took her hand after a moment, rubbing his thumb across it. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," she told him. "I mean, I already know that I'm pregnant, so I'm not nervous about that. I just…This makes it a lot more real."

He nodded. "Yeah, it does."

It almost suffocated him, how real it felt.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from his dad: _How's it going?_

He had told his dad that they were going to the doctor after school. He had offered to come with them, but Stiles didn't want to take him away from work, and he knew that this was something that they were going to have to do themselves.

 _Waiting on the doctor._ He texted back.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Just my dad," he told her. "Checking up."

She smiled. "It must be nice to just be able to tell him."

"It wasn't easy," he admitted. "It just kind of came out, you know?"

"Atleast you could get the words out," she said. "I don't even know where to start with my mom, and I can't even think about telling my dad."

She looked down at her free hand, and he knew that she felt guilty. It broke his heart that she was having so much difficulty, but he didn't know how to help her. He didn't know if he even wanted to be in the same vicinity as her mother when she found out, because she'd probably kill him. But if he was being honest, he would risk that for Lydia.

"I can be with you when you tell her, you know, if you want."

"Only if you want to be dead!" she told him with an incredulous laugh. "She's going to be furious as it is."

"I don't care," he said, squeezing her hand. "I don't want you to feel like you have to tell her alone, because you don't."

"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."

''''''''''

The door opened, causing Lydia to jump. A woman in a white coat walked in, a warm smile on her face.

"Hi," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Dr. Johnson."

Lydia gave her a smile and shook the offered hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Dr. Johnson said, sitting down on the stool across from them. She was tall and trim, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her dark skin complimented by the pink scrubs she was wearing. "Am I right to assume that you're the father?"

Stiles nodded. "That would be correct."

"It's great that you're here," she told him, smiling at him before she looked at the file in her hand. "Well, Lydia, according to the dates you provided, you're about seven weeks along, and the hormone levels correlate with that. It says here that you would like information on adoption as well as terminating the pregnancy. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Lydia nodded, wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress.

"We have contact with several adoption agencies if you decide to go that route," Dr. Johnson began, crossing her legs. "There's closed adoption and open adoption that you can choose from. Closed adoption is the more well-known option, where you give up the child completely. Open adoption is where the adoptive parents have legal custody and control of the child, but you can still be involved in the child's life – how much is between you and the parents."

Lydia nodded to signify that she understood. She already knew both of those options.

"The sooner you contact the agency, the sooner you'll find adoptive parents," she continued. "But you can always change your mind to keep the baby up until the day you deliver."

Lydia nodded again.

"There's also the option of abortion," Dr. Johnson said, keeping her professional tone. "As of now, we have two options to consider. We have the medical abortion, which is a pill you take here, and then you take one at home, or wherever you would be more comfortable. There will be a lot of bleeding, but some women prefer it because they're at home and can have someone close to them with them while it's happening. If you would prefer that option, you would have to do it in the next couple of weeks, as we don't offer this option after the ten week mark."

"What's the second option?" Lydia asked. She didn't know if they would be able to make the decision in that time-frame. It depended on if she actually got the guts to tell her mother.

Dr. Johnson nodded before continuing. "The second option is surgical abortion. It's more invasive, and it's done here at the clinic, and you can choose to have the anesthesia or not. There's less bleeding, and it's a faster process than the medical abortion, and we can do it before the ten-week mark if you decide to do that option as well as after."

"Okay," Lydia said, glancing at Stiles. "I think we need a little more time to decide now that we have more information, but I'll definitely get in touch with you within the next couple of weeks."

"All right," Dr. Johnson told her. "Whatever you decide, let me know, and I will be happy to assist you in any way that I can."

"Thank you," Lydia told her sincerely.

They all stood up, and Dr. Johnson shook hands with them. "If you would stop by the desk to check out, we can provide you with some prenatal vitamins for until you decide."

She left then, leaving Stiles and Lydia alone. Lydia turned to him. "I think that's the least I've ever heard you talk."

Stiles shrugged. "Well, it was really your appointment, and you asked all the questions that I had anyway."

She looked at him, studying his expression. "What are you thinking?"

"Too much?" he told her. "My brain's going into overdrive right now."

"Mine, too," she replied, taking his hand. "Are you ready to go?"

"Ready whenever you are."

''''''''''

They sat on Stiles' bed, looking at the pamphlets. They had been looking at them for almost an hour, and Lydia had no more idea of what she wanted to do.

Stiles threw the pamphlet that he was holding onto the floor, running his hand through his hair in frustration as he leaned against the wall. "Reading these pamphlets aren't helping at all."

"I know," she sighed, closing her own. "But I don't know what else to do."

"You realized that we haven't even talked to each other about it, right?" he asked. "Maybe we could try that?"

Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath as she readjusted herself to look at him better. "Okay. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "What do you want?"

"I don't know," she told him.

"Great talk."

"What do you expect, Stiles?" she snapped, his sarcasm getting to her. "The one thing that I never even thought to prepare for has happened, I don't know how to deal with it, and I can't even tell my mother! Excuse me for not knowing what to do!"

"Well, I don't know what to do, either!" he shot back. "Do you think I thought to prepare for this? There was a time where I thought that I was going to be a virgin until I was thirty!"

She raised an eyebrow at him before throwing her legs of the bed and standing up. "It doesn't even matter that we weren't prepared! Who is? We need to figure out what the best option is and _do it_. "

"How do you propose we do that?" he asked. "We haven't been able to so far!"

"I don't know!" she said. "But we need to do it soon!"

They stood in silence for a moment, frustrated. It really couldn't be this hard to figure this out. They had figured out much more complicated things before. How was it that they could figure out supernatural cases, but not what to do about their own future?

Then it hit her. Of course.

"We're going at it the wrong way," she said, turning back towards him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"How do we usually figure things out?"

He looked at her, confused. "This isn't a case, Lydia. We can't just lay out evidence and stare at a board."

"But we can, in a way," she insisted, getting excited. "Get your board out."

''''''''''

Natalie Martin walked into her daughter's room, basket in hand. Her only intent was to put the basket on the bed so Lydia could put up her own clothes when she got home, but when she saw the mess her daughter had left that morning, she sighed. Clothes were strewn all over the bed, as well as on the floor by the full-length mirror.

Lydia had seemed rushed and stressed that morning, and now Natalie saw why. She had her own days where nothing looked good on her, so she understood the mess. But Lydia could still try to pick up after herself so her clothes weren't wrinkled.

Setting the basket on the bed, she picked up a few of the dresses on the bed, knowing that they would have to be pressed. At least she had a few things to iron herself.

She grabbed a skirt off of the dresser, pausing when some papers fell to the floor. She bent down to pick them up, but froze when she read the title on the top of the page: _What to Expect Your First Trimester._

She barely registered the dresses she dropped as she held onto the papers with both hands. This had to be for a project. This couldn't be for her daughter. She had taught her to be safer than that.

Lydia could _not_ be pregnant.

''''''''''

Lydia paced the room while Stiles looked at the board.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go over it one more time."

"Option one," he started. "We terminate the pregnancy, and everything goes back to our original plans: College, careers, possibly marriage."

She nodded. "Okay. Option two?"

"We keep the pregnancy, and give it up for adoption, using one of the agencies in the pamphlets," Stiles explained.

"Which means that none of my prom or graduation pictures can be from the boobs down if I don't want that to be a part of pictures," Lydia cut in.

"Noted," he said, writing it on the board. "But throughout the pregnancy, we have the choice of choosing option three."

Lydia nodded. "The one where we keep the baby, and alter our college plans."

"We go to Beacon Hills Community College for two years, I get my associates in criminal justice, and then you transfer to Stanford, and I'll try to get a job at the local police station," Stiles finished.

She bit her lip, mulling over the options. They were all good plans, and having something concrete to think made her feel calmer about making the decision. But she still wasn't one-hundred percent sure which one she wanted to make.

"They're all good plans," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"But?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. "Just stating a fact."

Stiles sat down next to her, nudging her with his elbow. "But?"

"I'm still not sure what I want to do," she admitted. "I mean, I feel better planning out all of the options, but I don't know what I want to do, Stiles."

Stiles nodded. "Okay. Well, we have some time."

She turned to him, looking him straight in the eye. "What do you want to do?"

"I'm with you whatever decision you make," he answered sincerely, taking her hand. "In the end, it's your decision."

"But I need to know how you feel about this," she told him. "I can't make a definite decision unless we really talk this out."

She watched as he bit his lip, hesitation clear on his face. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I need to know, Stiles," she repeated. "Do you think we could keep it? Do we think that we'd be able to raise it, and have it end up okay?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Of course we could. Between us, our parents, and the pack, we'd have a kid that turns out better than we could ever dream."

"What about adoption?" she asked. "Do you really think that we could do that?"

"I don't know," he said, looking down at their intertwined hands. "I think that there's a possibility that it would have abilities. I don't want it to be completely clueless and lost if it does."

"Fair point," she said. She stood up and grabbed a marked, crossing out the adoption column. "That rules that one out. So, abortion. How do you feel about it?"

"I feel that it's your choice," he told her.

"Would you feel resentment towards me if I chose that?" she asked. "Would you feel like I was killing your child?"

"What? No!" he said, jumping up from the bed and walking towards her. "Why would you think that?"

"Because we haven't talked about that!" she said. "I don't know how you were raised in that respect. I know that you aren't very religious, but not everyone who thinks like that is."

"I don't think like that, Lydia," he assured. "I promise. If you believe that's the best option, than I will support you."

"We have to make a choice," she told him, turning back towards the board. "And since we've ruled out adoption, if we decide to continue the pregnancy, that's it. There's no going back."

"Is that what you wanna do?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Seeing that it's doable makes me consider it more than I was."

"If that's what you wanna do," Stiles told her, gently turning her around to look at him. "If it's really what you wanna do, I'm all in."

She searched his face, looking for any hesitation. She had imagined starting a family with him so many times. But when she saw it, they were older, more successful, more prepared. But something in her gut told her that they could do this.

Her great-aunt had always called babies little miracles. And if she believed in miracles, she might have thought that, too. Everything that the female body had to go through just to create another life was astounding – dangerous, but astounding all the same.

Then it hit her. She was creating life. It wasn't a life, not yet, but it was cells growing and multiplying every second to make another human being.

The Beacon of Death was making a life.

This had to be the biggest irony that she had ever seen.

She laughed, turning away from him to so she could compose herself.

"What?" he asked. "Did I say something funny?"

"No," she assured him. "I realized the irony in this situation."

"What irony?" He looked at her expectantly, confusion clear on his face.

"The irony that a Banshee is pregnant," she explained.

She saw the moment the realization hit him, and he smirked as he shook his head. "Gotcha."

Lydia's phone went off, and she walked over to it and checked it. It was a text from her mom.

 _-You gonna be home for dinner?_

She sent a quick yes back before turning back to Stiles. "I have to go. Mom wants me home for dinner."

"Okay," he nodded. "Let's both think over the plans and talk about it more tomorrow?"

"Yes," she said. "Definitely."

She snapped a picture of the board with her phone before giving him a quick kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he told her.

* * *

 **As always, I'd love to hear what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I just wanted to take a second to thank you guys! Your kind words keep me writing!**

* * *

She closed the door to the house, putting her bag and keys by the door. "Mom, I'm home!"

"In here," her mom called from the kitchen. She made her way in there, smelling lasagna cooking in the oven. "That smells amazing."

Her mother was standing by the sink, tense as she held a stack of papers in her hand.

"Mom?" she asked, going over to the island as worry filled her. "What's wrong?"

Natalie made her way toward the island herself, and Lydia noticed how her hands were shaking. She was scared, because what could possibly make her mother like this? She was always calm, always together. For God's sake, her mother was surrounded by people sick with what she thought was a virus epidemic, and she was cool and collected the whole time.

"Mom, tell me what's wrong," Lydia pleaded.

She slowly put the papers on the table. _What to Expect Your First Trimester_ in large letters was sprawled across the top of the first page. Lydia's mouth went dry.

"Please explain this to me," Natalie said, her voice shaking, and Lydia knew that there had to be tears in her eyes. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is, sweetie. It's for a project, right? Some research for school?"

Lydia kept her gaze on the paper, her heart beating fast. The room suddenly felt too hot. She wanted to explain, wanted to tell her mom everything. But she couldn't. She couldn't speak.

"Lydia!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. Lydia jumped, and she felt a tear run down her cheek. "Lydia, talk to me."

Lydia cleared her throat. "It's…it's not for a project. It's for me."

Her mom took a deep breath, processing the information. "How long have you known?"

"Almost a week," she answered.

"Does Stiles know?" Her mother continued her interrogation.

Lydia nodded. "He was the first person I told. Obviously."

"Who else knows?"

She bit her lip, not wanting to answer that. It was bad enough that her mom had to find out from a stack of papers, she didn't want to make it worse by telling her that more than her boyfriend knew. "I didn't know how to tell you, Mom. I went over it in my head constantly, but I could never get the words out. I'm so sorry. I promise that I was going to tell you."

"When?" Natalie asked. "When you come home from the hospital? When we have to go to the maternity section for your prom dress?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes at her mother, anger igniting as she responded. "I was thinking maybe when I go into labor at my graduation party, but hey, either of those work, too."

"This isn't a joke, Lydia," Natalie chastised.

"You don't think I know that?" she snapped. "I'm the one pregnant! Stiles and I have been agonizing over what decision to make. We haven't just been pretending that it's not happening, Mom. We're planning, we're comparing, we're talking. We're taking this _very_ seriously!"

"But not seriously enough to think that your mother might be able to help?" her mom asked.

"I didn't know how to tell you!" she said, frustrated. "I was afraid that you were going to react like this."

"I'm reacting like this because you _didn't_ tell me," Natalie told her. "I had to find out by finding a fucking stack of paper on your dresser!" She slammed her hand onto the papers for emphasis.

"Well excuse me for being hesitant to put you through even more shit because of me!" Lydia yelled, slamming her own hand on the island. "Excuse me for not wanting to disappoint you _yet again._ Your daughter can't even have _protected_ sex without getting knocked up! How much of a screw-up can someone be?"

"You didn't tell me because you thought that I would think that you're a screw-up?" her mom asked, her expression softening slightly. "I just want you to be honest with me, Lydia. I don't think that you're a screw-up, and I never have! Everything that you've been through so far has not been your fault, so why would I blame you for it?"

Lydia just looked at her, realizing that someone who didn't know any better wouldn't see anything that's happened over the past year as her fault. Her mother didn't know Peter was here because of her – or that Peter was anything other than a cute guy who gave her a number – or that Allison was dead because she couldn't warn her well enough. She refused to clue her mother in on any of that, though, because that was not the point of this conversation.

"I don't know!" she said instead. "I was just afraid and I couldn't get the words out, okay? But it's not like I was going to hide it from you forever. I was going to tell you when Stiles and I made a decision if not sooner."

"Have you made a decision?" her mother asked, an eyebrow raised.

"We've narrowed it down," she said.

"To?"

"We've ruled out adoption, because neither of us wanted to do that," Lydia explained. "So we're either going to terminate the pregnancy or keep it."

"You haven't even graduated high school yet, honey," Natalie told her. "How are you going to raise a kid?"

"We'll graduate before it's born, and then we'll just go to community college for the first two years, and then I'll transfer to Stanford and Stiles will get a job at a Sheriff's department."

"It sounds like you've got it all figured out," her mother said, picking at the corner of the papers.

"We've planned for all possible scenarios so we know exactly what we're getting into when we make our decision," Lydia told her.

"I'm glad," she said. "I raised you to make informed decisions, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"No, you shouldn't be," Lydia assured her. "I guess the only question I have is how you'll react to our decision."

Natalie stared at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

"If we do decide to keep it, what will you do?" she asked.

"Do you think I'd kick you out or something?" her mom inquired. "You're my daughter, and I will always love you. Whatever decision you make isn't going to change that." She came around the island, stopping by Lydia and cupping her cheek. "I'll support your decision no matter what."

Lydia felt tears prick her eyes as she looked at her mother. She honestly didn't know how her mother would react to the news. They had talked so many times about all the ways to _not_ get pregnant, but they had never discussed what would happen if those methods failed. She knew her mother loved her, but there were mothers who loved their children who kicked them out every day, for whatever reason.

She pulled her mom into a hug, squeezing as tight as she could. "I love you."

"I love you, too sweetheart," Natalie told her, kissing the top of her head.

''''''''''

Stiles sat at his desk, working on assignments that were due the next day. Well, he was trying to, anyway. Both his mind and his gaze kept going back to the board behind him. Mindless worksheets seemed slightly less important when compared to the decision looming over him and Lydia.

Were they ready to be parents? Was it ridiculous to even entertain the idea? He didn't know. Sure, they had it all planned out if they decided that, but Stiles couldn't get the voice out of the back of his head telling him that Lydia deserved to go to Stanford. That she didn't need to be in this town a moment longer. But she was the one who came up with the idea of going to the Beacon Hills Community to get their Associates, so it wouldn't be as challenging with a baby. He understood why, it made complete sense. But he knew that she had been dreaming of going to Stanford for a while now. It wasn't Harvard, but it was closer to home, and it was still a prestigious university that would hold some weight after graduation.

He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. He could think all that he wanted about it, but if she decided that she wanted to keep it, than he wasn't going to try to talk her out of it. He knew that it would be hard, but they could do it, and he would be there for Lydia and their child. He wanted to have kids with Lydia, always have, but he just didn't imagine that it might be so soon.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, turning back to his textbook.

"Hey, man," Scott greeted as he opened the door. He stopped when he saw the board. "What's all this?"

"Lydia and me were sorting through all of our options earlier," Stiles explained.

"Oh," Scott nodded, sitting down on the bed. "Have you guys gotten any closer to making a decision?"

"Well, we've narrowed it down to two," he answered, gesturing to the big X on the board.

"No to adoption?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded. "If it ends up having Banshee abilities, we don't want it being lost and scared."

"Makes sense," his best friend said, reading the board. After a moment, he looked back at Stiles. "You know, if you do decide to keep it, you guys aren't gonna be doing it alone, right? I'm planning on going to Beacon Hills Community, so you'll have awesome Uncle Scott to help you. And I'm sure your dad's gonna spoil it rotten, along with my mom. It's not like you're not gonna have any support."

"I know," Stiles replied. "And we appreciate it that more than you know. But we're just trying to decide if we're ready for a kid right now, you know? I mean, by the time it's born, we'll just have graduated and we'll be getting ready for college, and I know Lydia really wants to go to Stanford, and then there's the whole supernatural mess that's going on, and I just…I don't know, Scottie."

"Hey, if you're worried about protection, we can protect it," Scott assured. "I can't help you much about the whole college part of it, but protection wise, I can promise you that's covered."

Stiles nodded slowly, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, I know. In the end, though, it's Lydia's decision. I mean, I'm gonna be there for her no matter what, but I can't make that decision for her, you know?"

"Of course," he said. "I wouldn't want to make that decision for Kira. Do she have any idea what she wants to do?"

"If she does, she hasn't told me yet." Stiles stood up and walked over to the bed, sitting next to Scott.

"It's a big decision," Scott said. "But you guys will figure it out."

Stiles nodded. "I hope so."

''''''''''

Lydia took a deep breath, holding onto her locker door. The wave of nausea had hit her hard when Greenberg had walked by wearing a new cologne – too much cologne – and the scent apparently did not agree with her. She grabbed a peppermint from her bag and slipped into her mouth, willing it to work. After a moment, the nausea lessened, and she let go of her locker to grab her books. Fucking Greenberg.

"Are you okay?" A hand rested on her back, rubbing soothing circles.

She smiled at Scott, closing her locker door. "Fine, just caught a whiff of _really_ strong cologne, and it didn't agree with me."

"You mean Greenberg?" he asked as they started walking. "Yeah, that made me a little nauseous, too."

Lydia laughed. "Nice to know I'm not the only one."

They stopped at his locker, and she leaned against the one next to it as he got his books.

"I talked to Stiles last night," Scott said casually. "He said that you guys were closer to making a decision."

Lydia shrugged. "Yeah, we are. We've at least narrowed them down. I, uh, also told my mom last night."

"You did?" he asked, looking at her with wide eyes. "How did she react?"

"Well, considering the fact that she found out by finding some research that Stiles gave me, she was a little upset," she explained. "But other than that, I think she took it pretty well."

"That's great," he said.

She nodded. "Yeah, it is. Now if I could just decide what I want to do for sure, that'd be great."

Scott closed his locker and turned to look at her, sincerity clear on his face. "I'm not going to tell you what to decide, because that's not my place, or anyone's for that matter. But I told Stiles last night that we would be there for you guys no matter what you chose and that we would support your decision."

Lydia smiled at him, taking a moment to appreciate how lucky she was to have friends and family like she did.

"I know," she told him. "Thanks."

The bell rang, and they made their way to class.

''''''''''

Sheriff Stilinski set his mug down on his desk, looking over the paperwork left over from yesterday. Fortunately, they hadn't had anything too bad in the supernatural sense, so it was mainly DUIs and domestic disturbances.

"Sheriff," Parrish said, appearing in the doorway. "Mrs. Martin is here, and she says that she need to talk to you."

"Yeah, let her in," he said, his brow furrowing. This was the first time that she had ever made a point to come see him, so it had to be serious.

"Already in," she said, stepping around his deputy and inside the room. "You and I need to have a talk."

The Sheriff nodded. "All right. Sit down."

She sat down, and he nodded to Parrish to leave. "So, what's this about?"

"I think you know what this is about," she told him, giving him a pointed look. Realization hit him, and he nodded as he got up to close the door.

"I take it that Lydia told you," he said once the door was closed, coming to sit back behind his desk.

"In a way," she admitted. "I am also aware that they are being very responsible about the decision they have to make."

"They are," he told her. "I'm proud of them."

She gripped her hands together, a hesitancy in her expression. "Look, you know that I love Stiles and I think that he's great for Lydia, but you have to see that they're not ready to raise a child, right?"

He looked at her for a moment, trying to decide the best way to respond. "Do you want my honest opinion? Or do you want me to agree with you?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes in frustration. "I would prefer the two to correspond, but your honest opinion is important."

"Honestly," he started, leaning forward and leaning on the desk. "I think that they're more ready than you give them credit for. They've been through a lot in the past couple of years, and it's made them grow up a lot faster than most teenagers. I think that if they decide to do keep it and raise it, that they would do okay. They've got it all figured out, and I think that we should give them that chance, and be there to help them as much as we can."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't be there for my daughter," she said, and the Stilinski could tell that she was getting defensive. "Of course I would be there for them. But it doesn't mean I think that they should do it. They're too young."

"They are young," he agreed. "But I think if anyone could do it, that it would be them. I have complete confidence in them, Natalie. You should, too."

She nodded slowly, seeming to calm down. "I know. This isn't about not having confidence in them. It's just…she'll be throwing away so much. If they decide to keep it, then they're going to stay here, and I know how much she wants to go to Stanford, John. It's always been her dream."

"It'll be tough," he agreed. "But in the end, it's their decision to make, and if they're willing to make the sacrifices necessary, then I don't see how it can be a bad thing."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering over their conversation. John knew where she was coming from, he had had a few of those thoughts himself. But he also knew that he couldn't push them into a certain decision. So instead of doing what he wanted to do, he asked a question that he often asked when dealing with Stiles: What would Claudia have done? He always thought about how she would react to a situation, and would do his best to implement that, because she was always the more level headed one. She was always the more understanding one. And it had helped him on many occasions.

"You know," Natalie said, breaking the silence between them. "Stiles was the last person I ever thought who would get in this situation with my daughter. I thought that if anyone would, it would be Jackson."

He chuckled. "I didn't think that this would happen to them either, but you never think that it's gonna happen when it does."

"That's true," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just don't know how to feel about this whole thing, you know? How are you so calm about this?"

"I wasn't at first," he admitted. "My first instinct was to yell and scream and ask my son how he could be so stupid. But then I saw the look on his face. How guilty he felt. How scared he was. And, I don't know, I knew that he was berating himself enough." He took a deep breath. "So then I thought, 'how would Claudia handle this?', and that's how I handled it."

A small smile found its way onto Natalie's face. "I can't exactly do that. If I asked that question about my ex-husband, then I would either be throwing her out of the house or forcing them to get married."

"I don't think anybody wants that," he said with a chuckle. "Are you going to tell him?"

"Only if they decide to keep it," she told him. "And even then, he's gone so much I might just wait until he finally decides to show up. Which at this point, might mean when the kid's a senior itself."

John raised a brow at him. "I know that this isn't really any of my business, but when was the last time he came to see Lydia?"

"He hasn't been back to Beacon Hills since Lydia got attacked by that animal on the Lacrosse field."

"Wow." He couldn't even think about not seeing Stiles every day. He couldn't imagine not seeing him for two years.

"I realize that he has a demanding job," Natalie explained. "But I know that he can get off to see his daughter when she's not in a life threatening situation. It's just that he can't justify it to himself. He never has been. He's always been more committed to work then to anything else."

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely.

"It's not that big of a deal," she said. "Not anymore, anyway."

"I get it," he told her. "But Lydia's turned out great regardless, and that's because of you."

"It wasn't all me," she told him. "She's always been smart, kind, beautiful, and loving. But for the longest time she didn't show that to anyone except me. I knew it was her armor. How she dealt with things. It wasn't until she met Allison, and started hanging around Stiles and Scott, that she actually started to show the world who she really was and took her armor off. So I have your son to thank for that. And you for raising him."

"They bring out the good in each other, don't they?" he asked.

"Yeah, they do," she nodded. "Do you really think that they can do this?"

He nodded. "I do."

* * *

 **As always, I'd love to know what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys! Here's another chapter!**

 **I want to thank you guys so much for your support, I appreciate it so much!**

* * *

Lydia sat at her desk as the bell rang, opening her AP Biology textbook as the teacher started to write on the board. The door opened, Greenberg rushing in, breathing heavily. His cologne wafted in, and Lydia's stomach immediately started churning. How the hell did Greenberg get into AP Biology? Then again, she thought the same thing about Scott when he walked in on the first day, but he was doing surprisingly well.

"Nice of you to make it, Mr. Greenberg," the teacher said, crossing her arms as she appraised him.

"Sorry," he said. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," she told him. "Sit."

He went to his seat, which – _of fucking course_ – was right behind Lydia. She really should've planned her seat better. She closed her eyes, and breathed silently through her mouth. She didn't have any peppermints in her bag, so she focused on nothing but will to keep her from upchucking her breakfast.

The teacher started talking, but she couldn't pay attention to what she was saying. Her nausea only worsened, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it down.

"Miss Martin!"

She looked up to see her teacher looking at her with a mixture of concern and annoyance. She looked at Scott and Kira across the aisle from her, and they were both obviously worried.

She looked back at the teacher, who was waiting expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Lydia asked, her voice softer than she wanted it to be. She pressed her lips together as another wave of nausea hit her.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Lydia started to shake her head, but it only worsened her nausea, causing her to wince. She could feel it coming now, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it down.

"If you need to go to the nurse –"

Lydia was up before the teacher could finish, rushing out of the room and towards the bathroom, thankful that it was only a short walk. She went into the closest stall, leaning over the bowl as the contents of her stomach finally came up. She coughed when she was done, and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She hated the feeling of being sick, and she was thankful was that she hadn't been puking all the time. But just the few times she had been sick the past week or so was bad enough. She would've been fine if it wasn't for Greenberg's fucking cologne.

The door opened as she stood up on shaky legs.

"Lydia?" Kira said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured her, walking to the sink to rinse out her mouth. "But I can't go back in there. Greenberg's cologne is too strong."

"Well, you do have permission to go home," Kira said.

"I think I will," she nodded, pulling out her phone. "I just need to text Stiles."

When she was done, she put her phone in her bag, really regretting not having any mints on her.

"Here," Kira said, holding out a piece of gum. "It's spearmint, but it's better than nothing, right?"

"Thank you," she told her, taking the gum and popping it into her mouth. "All right, I'm going to go."

"Feel better," Kira told her, pulling her into a hug. "Go drink some of that tea."

"I will," Lydia assured.

''''''''''

Stiles felt his phone buzz, and he waited until the teacher was writing on the board to check it. It was a text from Lydia.

 _Not feeling well. Going home._

He frowned. She hadn't been doing that bad with the morning sickness so far. Did she eat something?

 _Everything Ok?_ He sent back.

The response was almost immediate. _Fine, just nauseous. Don't worry about me._

Like that was going to happen.

He put his phone back in his pocket, trying to pay attention to the material that was being covered. It wasn't working too well.

Had she taken her vitamins? Did she have enough of that tea that Kira gave her? Was she going to be okay by herself? Of course she'd be okay by herself, she's Lydia. But even if she would be okay by herself, shouldn't he be there to take care of her? He was technically part of the reason she was sick.

But he also didn't want to hover too much. She would hate that. If she needed him, she would let him know. Yeah, of course she would.

That wouldn't stop him from checking on her at lunch, if not sooner. But it would just be to see if she needed anything. He wouldn't hover.

''''''''''

Lydia flopped down onto the couch, already bored. She pulled out her textbook, opening it to the chapter that they were supposed to go over in class. Of course, she had already read it, but it never hurt to review material.

Once she found a comfortable position, she tried to read, but she couldn't seem to concentrate as her stomach rumbled. She shouldn't be hungry, she only ate an hour ago.

But then she threw it up a few minutes ago, so maybe she should be hungry.

With a sigh, she stood up and went to the kitchen. Surely there was something she could eat in there. She looked in the cabinets, looking for something quick so she could get back to studying. Her education was only more important now that she was going to be raising a child.

Well, _if_ she was going to raise a child.

She still wasn't completely sure what she was going to do, and it frustrated her. She knew that if she really wanted to keep it, that Stiles would be there for her every step of the way. They had been through so much that raising a child shouldn't be as big of a deal as she was making it out to be. Of course, raising a child in a town that was a literal beacon for the supernatural wasn't going to be easy. But it could be done.

It didn't stop the doubts in her mind, though. She knew that Stiles would be an amazing father. That she didn't doubt at all. But could she be a good mother? She was barely able to take care of herself, how could she take care of a child?

She found some strawberry Pop Tarts, and grabbed them as well as a jar of peanut butter. She knew that it was weird, but it sounded amazing.

She went back to the couch, textbook forgotten as she pondered on her thoughts. She was at a loss on how to make a decision, but the only person that she wanted to talk to wasn't there. Her best friend was gone, and nothing could change that.

She finished her Pop Tarts, exhaustion suddenly over-taking her. Before she could try to pull her book back towards her, she was asleep.

''''''''''

"Lydia."

Slowly, she opened her eyes to a bright white ceiling. This was not her ceiling. She sat up quickly, taking in her surroundings. She knew this room. This was the room where she and Scott had found Stiles when they went inside his mind.

She felt her breathing quicken and her heartrate increase. What the hell was she doing here?

"Lydia, calm down," the voice said with a chuckle. That voice. She knew that voice. Hearing it felt like she was able to breathe after drowning.

She turned around, tucking her knees under her, to see her best friend in the entire world looking at her with her beautiful smile.

"Allison," she breathed out, her eyes filling with tears.

"Hey," Allison said, walking towards her and sitting down with her legs crossed.

"What…" Lydia was at a loss for words.

"You needed to talk to me," her best friend explained. "I want to help, Lydia."

"How?" she asked. "How are you here?"

"It took a lot, which is why I haven't been able to visit you until now," Allison explained. "It was a little easier since you were a Banshee. But I'm here, and I can't stay forever. So let's get down to business."

"What am I supposed to do?" Lydia asked.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know!" she said. "That's why I haven't made a decision yet!"

"Lydia," Allison said, taking her hand and squeezing it. Lydia's heart skipped a beat as she felt her best friend's skin. It was almost like she had never left. "I love you, I do. But you tend to overthink things. Which in some ways can pay off. But this is not one of those times. You've thought all of the situations through, and now you have to do what _you_ think is best. Not your mom, not society, not anyone else. Just you and Stiles. You two have to make that decision yourself."

"I know," she said. "But I don't know what I think is best. Both of the options I'm considering are perfectly good options."

"True," Allison nodded. "But I know you're leaning towards one."

Lydia stayed silent for a moment, letting her best friend's advice sink in.

"Do you know the most ridiculous part to me?" She finally asked. "I'm a beacon for death, and I'm making a person, a life. It's like the universe is giving me the biggest irony that they could think of."

Allison laughed. "Or, it could be that after the universe has taken so much from you, it's finally decided to give you something instead."

"I don't want it to give me something new," Lydia admitted, the tears finally starting to spill over. "I want what was taken from me back. I want _you_ back."

A sob escaped her, and she put her free hand to her mouth and took a deep breath. She didn't want to spend the little time she had with her best friend crying. Allison squeezed her hand again, trying not to cry herself.

"You don't even know how much I would love that," she said, her voice thick with tears. "But we both know that it isn't possible." She grabbed Lydia's other hand. "But you can still have something good. Something to help balance out all of the bad that's happened. And maybe, just maybe, that's what this is."

Lydia closed her eyes, squeezing her hands back. She hadn't even thought about it that way. She hadn't _let_ herself think about it that way. But now that someone else had said it, it was like it gave her permission to do so.

"This is why I need you," she said, shaking her head.

"I'm still with you," Allison told her. "I always am. Even if you can't talk to me, I'm there. I'm going to be there for you whatever you decide, and I'm gonna be with you for every last of your Senior year, and I'm going to be cheering you on as you make your Valedictorian speech, and as you walk across that stage. I'm with you every step of the way, Lydia. Just not in the way that either of us want."

Lydia nodded, crying harder. "Can I just do one thing before we have to go back to that?"

"What?" Allison asked.

Lydia let go of her best friend's hand and wrapped her arms around her neck, squeezing as tight as she could. Allison hugged her just as tightly. Lydia couldn't help the tears flowing from her eyes. She burrowed her face into Allison's hair, taking in her scent and memorizing it all over again.

"I love you, Allison," she said.

"I love you, too," she replied.

''''''''''

Stiles knocked on the front door, tapping his foot anxiously. He had texted Lydia twenty minutes ago, seeing if she needed anything, but she hadn't responded. He kept telling himself not to worry, that she was probably just asleep. So he called her, and she still didn't answer. That's when he got worried. Because she always woke up when he called her. So here he was, knocking on her door.

He waited a moment without her answering before checking to see if the door was locked. It was. His concern was increasing by the second, so he grabbed the spare key from fake rock in her flower bed and opened the door.

"Lydia?" he called out, closing the door behind him. "Lydia?"

"Hmm?"

He made his way to the living room, finding a bleary-eyed Lydia shifting to a sitting position. He noted the textbook and the jar of peanut butter on the coffee table as he sat next to her.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"About twelve-thirty," he told her. "I came to check up on you."

"It's already twelve-thirty?" she said, looking at him with surprise. Shaking her head, she looked down at the book. "I couldn't have been asleep for that long."

"I guess you were," he said, shrugging. "Weird dreams?"

"I…" she trailed off, and he could see the hesitation on her face. She licked her lips nervously, standing up and pacing.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

She paced for a few moments in silence, stealing glances at him. Finally, she stopped and stood in front of him, her face resolute.

"Lydia, what's wrong?" he said.

"I've made my decision," she told him, wringing her hands together. "I'm going through with the pregnancy. I'm having the baby, and following the plan we made."

He stared at her, unable to articulate what he was thinking. He was okay with that decision, he was. But he didn't understand how she could suddenly be so sure.

"Say something," she said. "Are you with me or not?"

"Of course I am," he told her. "Of course. I just…what made you decide?"

Lydia bit her lip, sitting back down on the couch. "I, uh…I was introduced to a different way of thinking about it. Maybe instead of looking at the irony of the situation, we should look at it as maybe the universe is giving us something instead of taking something else away."

He nodded in understanding. "Kind of like it's balancing itself?"

"Yeah," she said. "But I honestly think that we can do this, Stiles. But only if you want to."

"I do," he assured her, cupping her face in his hand. "We're in this together."

He brought his lips to hers, kissing her gently. One hand wound itself into his hair, and the other one trailed down his chest as she deepened the kiss, pushing him onto his back onto the couch. She found the hem of his shirt, sliding her hand under it and brought back up to his chest. He couldn't hold back a moan as desire filled him, and his jeans suddenly felt constricting.

He pulled out of the kiss, giving her a smirk. "You know, this is how we got in this situation in the first place."

She smirked back at him, bringing her hand back down to his belt. "Well, I'm already knocked up, so it's not like we're risking anything."

She kissed him again, rougher this time as she unbuttoned his jeans. After a moment, she pulled back from the kiss, only to move to his neck. He shuddered, his body hyper-aware of every touch.

"You know," she said in between kisses. "We don't even…need to…use…a condom."

He groaned, grabbing her waist tighter as her hand brushed against him. He bucked up into her hand, trying to steady his breathing.

"Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Martin?" he asked breathlessly, slowly moving his hand up her waist.

"Is it working?" she asked coyly.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded vigorously, pulling up her shirt to expose her midriff. He sat them up, pushing her until she was lying on her back. "Be honest. How sensitive are your boobs right now?"

He cupped one of her breasts through her bra, and she gasped as her eyes closed in pleasure.

"Extremely so," she told him, her chest heaving with her breathing.

He gave her a wicked grin. If that's how she reacted and he had barely touched her, than this was going to be a lot of fun.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys! I thought that since this is just a little filler chapter, that I would go ahead and post it! You'll still get your usual Tuesday update, this is just something a little extra!**

* * *

Lydia paced the kitchen, her hands on her stomach as she tried to calm her nerves. She was wearing one of her semi-formal dresses, her hair cascading down her back in curls. Her mother was checking the roast in the oven.

It had been almost two weeks since she decided that she was going to keep the baby, and tonight her father was coming over for dinner. She had to tell him that she was pregnant.

"Lydia," her mom said as she closed the oven door. "You need to calm down, sweetheart."

"I'm trying," she told her. "It's not working."

The doorbell rang, and Lydia stopped dead, looking at her mother with wide eyes. There was a moment of silence where they simply stared at each other before her mother spoke up.

"It's probably Stiles and his dad," she said reassuringly, as if talking to a scared animal.

"Right," Lydia nodded, reminding herself to breathe. "I'll go get it."

She made her way to the front door, taking deep breaths. She had to get herself together. If she was a wreck when her father came in, he would demand to know why and they would probably never get around to eating dinner. She definitely didn't want that because that roast smelled amazing.

She took one last deep breath before opening the door, forcing a smile on her face.

Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski stood there, both in button down shirts. Her false demeanor faded when she saw them, and she sighed in relief. "Thank God it's you."

"Nervous?" Stiles asked as they stepped in.

She nodded, closing the door. "Terrified."

"Come here," he said, pulling her into a hug as John made his way to the kitchen. She welcomed it, breathing in his scent as he kissed the top of her head. "I'm scared, too, but it'll be okay."

"I know," she replied. "But I'm still terrified. Even though I barely see him, I was such a daddy's girl growing up, and wanted to do everything in my power to make him proud of me. All this is going to do is disappoint him, and I guess the part of me that still wants to make him proud is fighting against it."

"What does he think this dinner's about?" he asked, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

"He thinks that we're going to talk about college," she explained. "As well as getting to meet you."

"So he has no idea that you even have something to tell him?" he said. She nodded. "All right. So it's definitely going to be a surprise."

"Yup," she said. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You don't really have a choice," he told her. "But at least you don't have to do it alone."

She looked up at him, a small smile on her face. "That does make it a little bit better."

She gave him a sweet kiss, before placing her head back on his chest. They stayed like that for a few moments, Lydia calming down slightly as he held her.

"We should probably go to the kitchen," Stiles finally said. "See if your mom needs any help."

Lydia nodded. "Okay."

They made their way back to the kitchen, finding her mom and the Sheriff talking as Natalie started the gravy.

"Thank you again for doing this," her mom told him. "I really appreciate it."

"Not a problem," John assured her. "Thank you for letting me be here."

The doorbell rang again, and Lydia froze. Her anxiety came back full force, and she couldn't bear the thought of opening that door.

Stiles squeezed her shoulder, standing in front of her. "Lydia, breathe."

She force herself to breathe, feeling tears fill her eyes. "I can't do this." She pushed Stiles' hands off of her and ran up the stairs.

She closed the door to her room, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

What the hell was she thinking? Why did she even consider telling her father about this? All it was going to do was cause grief and strife, and she didn't need any more of that when it came to her family unit. He would freak out and probably find some way to blame it on the fact that she didn't move in with him when her parents got divorced. Then her mom would defend herself, and it would turn into a fight – because let's be honest, almost every conversation they had usually turned into a fight – and it would probably end in tears and hurtful words and the Stilinskis would get involved and make everything worse.

God, why did she allow the Stilinskis to come over?

She sat on her bed as the tears threatened to spill over.

 _Inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight._

She gained control over her breathing as there was a soft knock at the door.

Quickly, she wiped away the tears that had escaped. "Who is it?"

The door opened slightly, the Sheriff peeking his head in. "Can I come in?"

She nodded. He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"I would've thought Stiles would be the one to come up here," she said.

He shrugged. "He wanted to, but your dad's asking him a million questions. So I thought that I would come check on you."

"You let him in?" she asked incredulously.

"Well we couldn't just leave waiting at the door," he said. Sitting down next to her on the edge of the bed, he looked at her curiously. "You do realize that even if you don't tell him tonight, he's going to find out eventually."

"I know," she said. "I just…the thought of telling him is too much. I thought that it would be hard to tell my mom, but this is so much worse."

"Why?" John asked, genuinely curious.

"I guess…" she trailed off as tears filled her eyes again. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I guess I'm afraid that he'll be so disappointed in me that he won't want to have anything to do with me anymore. Well even less than he already does."

He thought for a moment before responding. "Do you believe that's the worst thing that can happen?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"Okay," he said. "What's the best thing that could happen?"

"Ideally or realistically?" she asked.

"Let's go with realistically," he answered.

"It would still end in yelling and crying," she told him. "But he would accept it and at least try to be supportive."

"I know it's going to be hard to tell him, no matter which way you focus on," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I get it. So have your freak out about the worst that could happen, then pull yourself together and focus on the best."

"Okay," she nodded. "I think I'm done with my freak out, so just give me a minute to compose myself, and I'll be downstairs."

"All right," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she assured. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "I'm gonna head downstairs. You gonna be alright?"

She nodded. "I just need to fix my makeup."

"Okay," he replied.

She went to her vanity as he left, checking her makeup. She could do this. She had to.

''''''''''

"There she is!" her father said, standing up from the couch. He crossed the living room and gave her a hug. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "I just needed to touch up my makeup. What'd I miss?"

"Just my interrogation of your boyfriend," he told her as they sat down, Lydia sitting next to Stiles.

"Oh?" she asked. "How'd he do?"

"Pretty well," her dad said. "But I guess with a Sheriff as a father, he's learned his way around an interrogation or two."

"Definitely," Stiles said.

"You know," her dad said. "I do vaguely remember meeting you before."

"Oh?" Lydia asked. "When?"

"When you were in the hospital," he explained. "I thought that he was crazy. I came out of your room, and he was lying across the chairs, asleep. I asked the nurse if he'd been there all day, and she said that he had been there all weekend."

"I didn't know that," she said, looking at him. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I guess that it never came up," Stiles shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed uncomfortable by the revelation, but she didn't understand why.

Natalie appeared in the doorway, a smile on her face. "Dinner's ready."

''''''''''

"Stiles," her father said as they ate. "What are you planning to go to school for?"

"Criminology," Stiles told him.

"Wow," he said. "Wanna follow in your old man's footsteps, huh?"

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "I've got his skill for it."

"That's awesome," he told him. "Where are you planning on going?"

"I'm gonna start off at Beacon Community," Stiles answered.

"That's a nice place," her dad said. "I'm sure you two will be able to work out the long distance stuff. I mean, Stanford's not that far away, so you can see each other on the weekends and stuff."

Lydia felt dread pool in her stomach. She knew that she had to tell him, and this was probably the only way that it would come up somewhat naturally in conversation.

She cleared her throat, gaining his attention. "Actually, I'm going to start off at Beacon Community, too. Then I'll transfer to Stanford."

"What?" he said, confusion plain on his face. "Lydia, your whole life you've wanted to go to Stanford. To start off at Stanford."

"Plans change," she told him. "Beacon Community's cheaper, and closer to home."

"Honey, you'll probably get a full ride with your grades," he insisted. He looked between her and Stiles for a moment, giving Stiles a suspicious glare. "Please don't tell me you're going because of him. Sweetie, just because your boyfriend won't get into –"

"Stiles would get into Stanford without any problem," Lydia snapped, her gaze harsh. "If you honestly think that I would even consider that as a legitimate reason to not go to Stanford, then you don't know me very well."

"Well I can't think of any other reason that you would throw away your dream!" he exclaimed.

"Okay, why don't we just calm down," John chimed in.

"Why?" she said, pissed off now. "We all knew that this night was going to end in yelling and crying anyway, so why not start now?"

"Lydia," her mother interrupted.

"No," she said, holding her finger up to her mother. "I need to say this." She turned back to her father, ready to tell him off. She knew her hormones were kicking in, but she didn't care. "How dare you even think that you know me anymore? I haven't seen you in over a year, and you come in here telling me my dreams and my ambitions like you spend every day with me? I don't think so. Because if you had been here for me, you would know what I've been through, and how much I've changed. You would know the reason behind me wanting to wait to go to Stanford. But you haven't been here, so let me enlighten you.

"Lyds," Stiles warned. "Are you sure you wanna do it like this?"

"Yup," she said, not taking her eyes off of her father. "I'm pregnant. Stiles is the father. We're going to keep it. For some reason we thought going to Stanford would be too hard with a newborn, so we decided to that we would start out here, so we still had the support of home."

She saw the emotions play across his face. Surprise, shock, disbelief, and finally anger. "You're pregnant?"

"Yeah," Lydia nodded. "Pregnant, knocked up, bun in the oven."

She stole a glance at the other people in the room. Stiles looked wary, the Sheriff looked uncomfortable, and her mother looked downright shocked. At the moment she didn't care.

"Is this the point of this whole dinner?" he asked. "So you can tell me that you're pregnant."

"Basically," she answered. "It's sad that we had to plan a fancy dinner just so you could come see your daughter, huh? Well, at least this time I didn't have to be mauled and put in the hospital."

"That's enough!"

Lydia looked at her mother in disbelief. "You're defending him?"

"I'm not," she said. "But I also think that you've said enough. Don't overwhelm him."

" _He's_ overwhelmed?" Lydia asked incredulously.

"No," he said, his nostrils flaring as he turned to Natalie. "I'm not overwhelmed. How could you let this happen?"

"Excuse me?" Natalie asked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"She's living with you," he told her. "You're responsible for her. How could you let her get pregnant?"

"I didn't _let_ her do anything!" she exclaimed. "Do you think that she wouldn't have had sex if I didn't _let_ her? That's not how it works, Nathan!"

"She wouldn't have gotten pregnant if she was living with me, that's for damn sure!" he argued.

Lydia couldn't help herself. She laughed. "Yeah, because you would've kept a better eye on me, right? It doesn't matter that you work all the time, you would always keep an eye on me and police my sexuality. Hate to break it to you, Daddy, but I gave my first blow-job at fourteen. You know, when you were still living with us."

"Oh, jeez," John muttered, rubbing his hand down his face. "I think we need a breather here, all right? Before we say something we really regret."

There was a tense silence for a minute, her father putting his head in his hands.

"Can I ask some questions and have everyone remain civil?" he finally asked.

"I guess," Lydia told him, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat back in her chair.

"How far along are you?"

"Nine weeks," she answered.

He nodded. "And you're sure that you're going to keep it?"

"Positive."

"Can I ask why?" he said.

"I…" she looked around the table, unsure if she should say. She hadn't told anyone about her dream of Allison, and she certainly didn't want to tell him. "We weighed our options, and considered them, and we decided that we wanted to keep it."

"That didn't answer my question," he told her, looking up with a raised brow.

"I don't know what to tell you, then," she said. "Because that's what happened."

"Are you going to get married?" he asked.

"Of course not," she replied. "When and if we get married will be on our own time, not because I'm pregnant."

He didn't like that answer, she could tell. But she didn't care. She loved Stiles, and she wanted to marry him someday, but she didn't want to rush it just because they were going to have a kid.

"It would make things a lot easier," he said. "You know, legally."

"I'm not getting married because it will make things easier, Dad," she told him. "That's not the only reason people should get married."

"Fine," he surrendered. "But you could atleast consider it."

"When the time is right we will," she said, taking Stiles' hand. "But not before then."

"If I could say something?" Stiles cut in, anxiety clear on his features. "I understand why you want us to get married, sir, and it's not just about legality. You think that if we're married, that it'll be harder for me to leave. I can tell you that's not true. I know from people close to me that marriage has nothing to do with how easy a father can leave.

"But I can also tell you that I won't be one of those. I've loved your daughter for a long time, and each day, even though I don't know how it's possible, I fall in love with her more. I'm dedicated to Lydia, and I'm dedicated to our child. The only way I'm leaving is if I'm dead."

Lydia couldn't help the sense of pride she felt for her boyfriend.

"That's really nice," her dad said. "But if you loved her as much as you say you do, you would want to marry her."

"I do," Stiles assured him. "One day. But neither of us think that it's the right time right now."

"But it is the right time to have a baby?" he asked.

"Nathan," her mother warned. "Drop it. They've made their decision."

He looked at her, disbelief on his face. "They're just kids, Natalie! Kids don't always make the best decisions."

"They're adults, actually," she told him. "Young, yes. Children, no. And I can tell you that they are more mature then we were at their age, and I believe that they can do this. Also, this is the twenty-first century, and they don't have to get married."

"I don't want them to get married for the same reasons our parents would've wanted us to get married," Nathan insisted. "There are so many legal aspects to raising a child, that it just makes sense. I just want them to keep an open mind about it."

"If we keep an open mind about it, will you stop talking about it?" Lydia asked. She was done with all the marriage talk. She didn't want to get married yet, and she wasn't going get married no matter what her dad tried to say.

He nodded, putting his hands up in surrender. "That's all I ask."

"On that note," her mom said. "I think it's time for dessert."

''''''''''

"Well, at least it didn't end in crying," Natalie said as she sat down on the couch after Nathan left.

Lydia, who was lying on the opposite couch with her feet resting on Stiles' lap, slowly turned her head to glare at her mother. "Yes, it went so well."

"At least it didn't go as bad as it could have," John offered.

"I guess," she said. "But we all know he's not going to give up on the marriage thing."

"Good thing he doesn't control us then," Stiles said.

"I know," she sighed. "But he's still going to bug us, and I'm not ready to deal with that."

"It'll be okay," he assured her. "We're both stubborn."

"Where do you think I get it from?" she told him, raising her eyebrow.

"You get it from both sides," her mom cut in. "And I'm not gonna let him bug you."

"Thanks, Mom," she said.

She knew that in the grand scheme of things, that her father pressuring them to get married was the least of her problems. But as she looked at the people in the room with her, and thought about the other people she had in her life, she knew that she could get through whatever was thrown at them.

* * *

 **Tell me what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, guys, here's your normal Tuesday update! I don't know how often I'll post more than once a week, but you can always count on Tuesdays!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"NO!"

Lydia sat up, disoriented. Where the hell was she? Her heart was beating in her chest, her breath coming in gasps. She shut her eyes, willing herself to calm down so she could assess her surroundings. A hand landed on her shoulder, and she reacted immediately as her eyes flew open, grabbing it and twisting it behind the person's back.

"Lydia!" Scott yelled out in pain. "It's just me."

She let go of him, her breathing still erratic as she looked around. She was in the McCall living room, standing in front of the couch. She remembered that she had come over after school to help Scott with homework, and she guessed that she had fallen asleep while they took a break.

"I'm sorry," she told him, mortified. "I didn't realize that it was you."

"It's okay," he said, rolling his shoulder with a grimace. "I shouldn't have done that. Are you okay?"

"Um…" she rested a hand on her stomach, trying to calm her breathing. "That depends. Can you hear the heartbeat?"

"Yeah, of course," he answered, brow furrowed in confusion. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You're sure?" she asked. "You're sure it's not just mine?"

"Lydia, there are two heartbeats," he assured. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, sitting back on the couch. "Just a nightmare."

"About the baby?" he asked, sitting next to her.

She nodded. "I keep dreaming that I can't protect it."

She had dreamed many different scenarios since she found out that she was pregnant, the latest one being the Mute from so many months ago coming to kill her and her child for the money. The only common factor in all of them was that she was alone with it, and she couldn't protect it from the threat.

"Lydia, that's ridiculous," he told her. "You've been training with Parrish and Derek for months. You just subdued an Alpha werewolf."

She had been training. That's how she knew what to do when Scott had grabbed her shoulder. But it didn't help her fears.

"But what if that isn't enough?" she asked. "What if I'm not enough to protect my kid?"

Scott took her hand in both of his, waiting until she looked at him to start. "I think you are enough, for what it's worth. The things mothers can do for their kids even when they think that they can't is incredible. I have a perfect example of that. Hell, my mom doesn't have any combat training, and she's protected me against the supernatural multiple times. But, if you _ever_ feel that you're not enough, you're not alone. You've got your pack."

"But everyone's going off to college next year, and Stiles and me are staying here," she said.

"Not everyone," he told her, squeezing her hand. "I'm thinking about going to Beacon Community."

"What?" she asked, pulling her hand back. "No! You can't. What about UC Davis? I swear to God, McCall, if you don't go because of Stiles and me, I _will_ kill you."

Scott held up his hands. "It's not because of you guys. At least, not mostly. I'm not going to be able to get enough scholarships with my grades to go to UC Davis, and as difficult as some of my classes are going to be, I don't know if I'll be able to balance school and lacrosse if I get a lacrosse scholarship."

"But you've gotten good grades," Lydia said, confused.

"I made halfway decent grades freshman year," he told her. "I barely passed sophomore year. Last year, I got okay grades, but even if I make straight A's all year, my GPA still wouldn't be enough to get a full-ride."

"What about SATS?" she asked.

"I did good enough to get in," he told her. "But it's on the lower end."

She bit her lip, not sure how to respond. She knew how hard he had studied, and how much he had applied himself – well, as much as you could while protecting the entire town – and he still couldn't go to the college he dreamed of because of money.

"God, Scott, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, taking his hand again. "What's your plan now?"

He took a deep breath before looking at her. "Go to Beacon Community for a year or two, save up some money, and make as good grades as possible. Maybe that will help with scholarships when I transfer."

"It should," she nodded. "I wish I could help you."

"Don't worry about me," He assured her. "You have enough to worry about."

The back door opened, and Melissa came through the door, smiling when she saw Lydia in the living room.

"Hey, Lydia!" she called out, setting her purse down on the counter before making her way to the living room.

"Hi, Mrs. McCall," Lydia said, giving her a small wave. She loved Scott's mom. She was so loving and kind that you couldn't help but to love her. But Lydia couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty at the fact that Melissa didn't know that she was pregnant. It wasn't that Stiles and Lydia didn't want to tell her, but they just hadn't seen her long enough to talk to her since everything had happened.

"It's Melissa," she told Lydia, sitting down in the armchair.

"Sorry," Lydia said, putting her hands up in mock defeat. "Hi, _Melissa._ "

"That's better," she teased. "What are you kids up to?"

"Homework," Scott told her. "I honestly don't think that I would be passing AP Biology if it wasn't for Lydia."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're doing great. I'm not even helping you that much."

"Well I'm glad you're here," Melissa said. "Even if it is just to keep him focused."

Lydia's phone went off. She checked it, surprised at the time. "How long did you let me sleep?"

Scott shrugged. "About an hour. I lost track of time reviewing those flashcards that you made."

She nodded. "Well, as much as I would love to stay and talk, my mom is going to want me home for dinner, and I still have to stop by the loft on the way home."

While Derek had been gone, he had left the pack in charge of checking in on the loft every few days to make sure that everything's okay. They had gone to taking turns, and it was Lydia's turn to check in.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Scott asked.

"No," she said, grabbing her bag and standing up. "I'll be fine."

"Okay, I'll walk you out."

"It was good to see you sweetheart," Melissa told her.

"You, too," she replied.

Scott and Lydia made their way to the door, where he stopped her before she stepped outside.

"You realize that you have to tell her, right?" he asked softly.

"I know," Lydia nodded. "But I didn't want to do it without Stiles. As much as I love your mother, it's nothing compared to her and Stiles' relationship, and he should be here to break the news to her, you know?"

He nodded. "Fair enough. Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

"I'm sure," she assured him. "I'll only be a few minutes."

"Okay," he said. "Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Always," she told him as she opened the door. "If you have any more questions, just call me, okay?"

"Will do."

She closed the door behind her, making her way to her car. She shouldn't be tired, but she was, so she was determined do just check the mail at the loft and go home so she could crash.

''''''''''

Lydia stepped into the loft, mail in hand. As she set it down on the coffee table, she didn't miss the dust that was disturbed. As much as she wanted to go to bed, she should probably dust at the very least. He was most likely going to be exhausted when he got back – whenever that was – and the last thing he would want to come home to was a dirty loft.

She made her way into the kitchen, checking cabinets to find some kind of duster. After a few minutes, she found one under the sink. Satisfied, she made her way back into the living room.

"Lydia?"

She jumped, looking to the door. Malia stood in the doorway, looking at her in confusion.

"Don't scare me like that!" Lydia chastised. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure everything was okay," Malia told her. "What are you doing here?"

"Same reason," she said, turning to the coffee table. "While you're here, you might as well help."

"Help with what?" Malia asked, stepping down into the loft.

"I was going to dust and pick up a little bit," Lydia explained. "It'll go faster with you here, though. There's another duster under the sink."

Malia sighed, but made her way to the kitchen, coming back after a moment with the other duster. "Why are we dusting?"

"Because it's dusty in here," Lydia explained she finished up the coffee table. "And I doubt Derek will want to come home to dusty loft and have to clean it after whatever his adventures happen to be with Braeden."

Malia dusted at the books at the table by the window. "I really doubt he cares."

"The fact that I have never seen dust around here combined with the dusters under the sink makes me think otherwise," she told her. "It won't take long. Not with both of us."

Malia finished the table, moving to the bookshelf by the bed. "That's true."

A few minutes later, all surfaces were dusted, and Lydia was ready to go home. Fatigue had been getting worse the further she got into her pregnancy, but she wasn't sure how much of it was the pregnancy and how much of it was caffeine withdrawal.

She stood up from putting the dusters away, smoothing out her dress. "See? It didn't take that long. Thanks for helping."

"Did I really have a choice?" Malia asked, raising an eyebrow as she smirked.

Lydia pretended to think for a moment before giving the other girl a smile. "Not really."

Malia rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the smile on her face. "I thought so."

They left the loft, making sure to lock up behind them, making their way downstairs.

"You know," Malia said as they walked. "I still haven't gotten used to the fact that you're pregnant."

"Well, you're not the only one," she told her, smoothing out the front of her dress again. She wasn't showing yet, but it didn't stop her from being paranoid about it.

"I'm not saying it like it's a bad thing," the werecoyote explained. "It's just…weird. You know, the second heartbeat and all."

"It's only been a few weeks," Lydia said. "You'll probably get used to it soon."

"It's not just that though," Malia insisted as they walked to the parking lot.

"What else is it?" Lydia asked, curious.

"The only way that I know how to explain it is that I feel more…protective of you," she explained. "Like when someone accidentally bumped into you today, I kind of wanted to rip their throat out."

Lydia nodded slowly, perplexed. "That's strange. Do you think that is might have anything to do with –"

She stopped as something flew out of her peripheral. She whipped her head around in the direction it came from, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Lydia…"

She turned back to Malia as she fell to her knees, and she saw the dart sticking out of the girl's neck.

"Malia!" She went to put Malia's arm around her shoulder, but Malia pushed her away.

"No!" she said, her eyes losing focus as her words started to slur. "Run."

Malia fell forward, losing consciousness. Panicked, Lydia checked her pulse, relived to find one. She looked at their surroundings, trying to find the source of the dart, but no one else was there.

Her car was only a few feet away, and she could still see Malia from the cover. She ran, pulling out her phone as she did so. She hit Scott's contact as she unlocked the car, opening the door.

There was a sharp pain on her arm, and she cried out, dropping the phone. Quickly, she grabbed the dart and pulled it out, determined to let as little of whatever was in the dart into her system. Her vision started to blur, and she knew that she wasn't fast enough. She took in a big breath, trying to focus on letting out a scream, but she knew that she couldn't do it.

Suddenly she was on the ground, and she could hear something coming from her phone that was just out of her reach.

"Scott!" she called out, not nearly the volume she wanted. "Help."

She heard the crunch of footsteps as her vision went black.

''''''''''

Scott stood at the counter, drying dishes as his mom washed.

"It's not that I don't understand it necessarily," he explained, talking about his Biology homework. "It's that it won't stick in my head easily."

"So you go over it a few more times so it'll stick in your head," Melissa told him as she put the last dish in the drainer. "That's what I had to do many times when I was in nursing school."

"I know," he said, taking the plates and putting them in the cabinet. "It's just frustrating."

"You gotta do what you gotta do, sweetheart," she said. "When you have your own office and you're doing what you love, then it'll all be worth it."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, that's what I keep thinking."

His phone rang, Lydia's number coming up on the screen.

"Hello?" he greeted. There was a large crash, like she dropped her phone. "Lydia?"

There was silence on the other end, and it was starting to worry him. "Lydia?"

His mom looked at him curiously. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," he said. "Lydia!"

"Scott!" It sounded like she was close, but it was still faint through the phone. "Help."

He felt his blood run cold at how soft and slurred her words were. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Lydia!" he yelled. "Lydia, where are you?"

There was the crunching of gravel, and the line went dead.

His heart was beating in his chest, and he could feel his eyes change color as he stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Lydia's in trouble."

He was out the door before Melissa could respond.

''''''''''

Scott pulled into the parking lot of Derek's apartment building, swinging off of his bike and running towards Malia's unconscious form. As he leaned next to her, he saw a dart sticking out of her neck.

"What the…" he pulled it out, putting it aside to examine later, and turned his focus back on Malia. He could hear her heartbeat, so he wasn't worried there. He just needed her to wake up.

The sound of a car pulling into the lot hit his ear, and he tensed as it came nearer. It turned the corner on the row where Scott and Malia were, stopping at the obviously strange sight, and Scott recognized it. He stood up, waiting for the owner.

Derek got out of the driver's seat, Braeden not far behind from the passenger side.

"What the hell happened?" the older wolf asked, crouching down and picking Malia up.

"I don't know," Scott admitted. "I just got here. All I know is that Lydia's in trouble."

"That's her car right?" Braeden asked.

Scott followed her line of sight, spotting Lydia's car a few feet away. He ran over to it as Derek headed towards the apartment, checking around the car for clues. Her phone was by the driver door, the screen cracked. He picked it up, anger boiling inside him. His fears were confirmed. Lydia had been taken.

"I'm gonna find who took her and rip them to shreds," he growled, his fangs sliding out.

"What's that?"

Scott startled at the familiar voice, spinning around to find his first beta. The one he didn't turn himself.

"Isaac?" he asked in disbelief.

"Nice to see you, too," Isaac said, walking towards his alpha. "But at the moment I'm more interested in this."

He reached down under the car, a dart identical to the one that he pulled out of Malia in his hand as he straightened up.

"I pulled one of those out of Malia," Scott said, taking the dart from Isaac.

"I think you can rule out a supernatural creature," Braeden said, taking it from him. Her eyes narrowed as she studied it. "This looks familiar…"

"How so?" Scott asked. "Do you know who took Lydia?"

"Maybe," she said. "I remember another mercenary using these when she needed to take someone, but not kill them."

"So she's not wanting to kill Lydia?" Isaac asked.

"No," Braeden told them. "If it's who I'm thinking of, she probably took Lydia as leverage."

"Leverage against who?" Scott said, confused.

Braeden looked at him, offering the dart back to him. "Probably you."

* * *

 **And the plot thickens! Thank you guys so much for your reviews and favorites, and as always, I'd love to know what you thought!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, first of all, I am so sorry that I didn't get this posted yesterday. I promised you guys Tuesdays, and I didn't deliver. For that I apologize. But, I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again, and I hope this chapter makes up for it a little bit!**

* * *

"How could this happen?"

"I don't know."

"We should've been protecting her!"

"I know, Stiles, but –"

"You should've gone with her!"

"You don't think I know that?"

Stiles paced Stiles' loft, biting his thumb. Anxiety and fear filled him, and he was pretty sure that he was close to a panic attack if he didn't calm down.

Melissa finally stepped in front of him, stopping him from moving. "Stiles, you need to calm down. You're not going to help Lydia by freaking out."

He took a deep breath, sitting down in one of the chairs. Malia took up the couch, still unconscious as Deaton finished looking her over.

"It seems that it was simply a strong dose of sedative," Deaton told him.

"How strong?" Scott asked.

Deaton shrugged. "Strong enough to keep a werewolf down for a while, apparently."

Stiles' chest tightened. "What would that do to Lydia?"

"She'll probably be passed out for much longer."

"Maybe not," Braeden said. She had been studying the darts since they got into the loft. "There's still sedative in the one we found by Lydia's car. She probably pulled it out before all of it made its way into her."

Stiles sighed, running his hand through his hair. "But she still got enough, right?"

Braeden nodded.

Tears filled his eyes as he thought about what that could mean. He stood up, walking to over to Deaton, dreading asking the question he needed to. Multiple people in the room still didn't know that Lydia was pregnant, Deaton included.

"What…" he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "How would that…"

"Stiles, what is it?" Melissa asked, concern clear on her face. Guilt filled him at the fact that she had to find out like this.

"What dangers do sedatives present to a developing fetus?" he asked, looking only at Deaton.

"What?" Melissa and Derek asked in unison.

Deaton's eyebrows raised as he gave a small nod. "Is this something that we have to worry about, Stiles?"

He just nodded.

"It shouldn't have that much of an effect for one time, especially since it wasn't as strong of a dose as what was intended," the vet explained.

Sighing in relief, Stiles sat down on the coffee table and put his head in his hands. "Thank God."

"I'm sorry," Melissa said after a moment. "But I still think that I must've heard you wrong. Because you can't have possibly suggested that Lydia is pregnant."

"Mom," Scott cut in, a warning tone in his voice. "Not now."

"Yes, now," she said.

"Lydia's pregnant, okay?" Stiles said, looking at his hands. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Not particularly," Melissa quipped. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I haven't seen you long enough to tell you," he said.

"I've seen Lydia," she said. "I just saw her this afternoon."

"She didn't want to tell you without Stiles being there," Scott explained.

"So you knew?" she asked, turning to her son and crossing her arms.

"Of course I knew," he said.

"But you didn't think to tell me?" Melissa said.

"It wasn't my place to tell!"

"And no one thought to call me?" Derek asked.

"Or me?" Isaac said.

"You've been in France," Stiles snapped at him. "And you haven't exactly stayed in contact. At least with me." He turned to Derek. "And you've been out of town for weeks. Excuse me for thinking that it wasn't the best news to give you over the phone."

"None of this is the point," Scott said. "The point is Lydia has been taken, and we need to find her. We think that whoever took her isn't going to kill her, but that doesn't mean that she won't get hurt."

Stiles tried to ignore the way his heartbeat sped up at the thought.

"We couldn't pick up her scent," Isaac said. "It's like she disappeared."

"How did you even meet up with Derek?" Stiles asked, trying to distract himself from the panic inside him.

"Our lead actually led us to France," Braeden explained. "He met up with us, and said that he wanted to come back with us."

Isaac shrugged. "I thought that it was time to come back. Apparently I was right, because you need the help."

The loft door opened, revealing Kira and Liam, Kira carrying a small duffel bag.

"I didn't know how much we needed," Kira explained. "So I got a lot of different things."

She set the bag down next to Stiles on the table before spotting Isaac. "Hi!"

"Hey, Kira," Isaac greeted, giving her a small wave. His gaze then moved to the younger beta. "Who is this?"

"You really haven't stayed in contact, have you?" Stiles asked.

Scott sighed. "This is Liam."

" _This_ is Liam?" Isaac asked. "I was expecting him to be more…angry. Maybe a little more intimidating."

"Well, what's your impression of me now?" Liam asked.

"A puppy," Isaac told him.

Liam gave him an exasperated look, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can be intimidating."

"Of course you can," Isaac told him, but he obviously didn't mean it.

Malia sat up with a growl, her eyes glowing blue as she took in her surroundings.

"Where's Lydia?" she asked, standing up. She swayed, and Stiles caught her wrist to steady her. "Where is she?"

"We, uh, we don't know," Stiles told her.

"I told her to run," Malia said, slowly sitting back down. "I got hit by that dart, and she tried to help me, but I told her to run."

"Then what?" Stiles asked, sitting next to her.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "That's the last thing I remember."

Stiles nodded, trying not to let his anxiety show.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry," she said. "I tried to help her, but I – I couldn't."

"It's okay," he assured her. "We'll find her."

"We will," Scott said. "We have to."

''''''''''

The first thing she was aware of was the dripping somewhere nearby. The air smelled musty, and as she slowly opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a table of weapons.

Her heartbeat sped up, as well as her breathing, and she moved to run. Except that she couldn't. She was tied to an arm chair, her ankles tied to the legs of the chair as well as a rope tied around her chest and the back of the chair. Her wrists were attached to the arms by handcuffs, and she felt tape over her mouth.

"Look who's awake?"

Lydia whipped her head in the direction of the voice, and immediately regretted it when the room started to spin. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the voice said, closer this time. "I'm actually kind of glad that you pulled out the dart before you got the full dose. It was getting boring just watching you sleep."

Lydia took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

The voice got closer, and it was coming from behind her. "Now, I can take the tape off, but you have to promise me not to scream."

The source of the voice came into her line of vision, stopping to stand in front of Lydia. She had long, straight black hair pulled back into a ponytail, with an olive complexion. She was wearing a black tank with jeans, and a pair of obviously expensive boots.

"It's really in your best interest," she continued. "Because anyone who hears your scream and comes will be killed."

Lydia's chest tightened at the threat, and she slowly nodded to signify that she would be silent. The tape was ripped off of her, and she couldn't help but cry out as a layer of skin came off with it.

"You said full dose," she said, confused. "Full dose of what?"

"Doesn't matter, it didn't hurt the baby."

"How do you –"

"Know about the baby?" the woman asked. "I've been watching your pack for weeks."

"What do you want with me?" Lydia said, trying not to let her fear show.

"I don't really want anything to do with you," she admitted. "I just need you out of the way."

"Out of the way for what?" Lydia asked.

The woman chuckled, and a chill ran down Lydia's spine. Leaning forward, she looked Lydia straight in the eye, a condescending smirk on her face. "Well, I can't have the pack's Banshee warn her Alpha when I'm about to kill him, now can I?"

Lydia's blood ran cold, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She was planning to kill Scott. Why, Lydia had no idea. But she'd be damned if she let it happen.

"I won't let you," Lydia told her. "I won't let you kill Scott."

"Oh, sweetheart," the woman said. "You won't have a choice."

''''''''''

Derek was about to kill two betas.

Scott had left Malia and Isaac with him to search for Lydia. They had figured that they should see if they could find her scent, and had found themselves in the preserve. Of course, the whole time Malia and Isaac had been nothing but throwing sarcasm and snark at one another.

"You know, you should have a little more respect for someone who helped save your life."

Malia turned on him, her eyes flashing. "I didn't need saving! And if I recall your story correctly, you're the one who got caught in a bear-trap, not me."

"Yeah, trying to save you," he argued. "I almost died for you."

"But you didn't," she quipped. "And I didn't need you to. I was completely fine living as a coyote."

"You seem to be completely okay with living as a human, now," Isaac retorted. There was a beat of silence. "You're welcome."

"Are you sure you weren't exiled to France?" she asked him. "Because I honestly don't see how anyone can deal with you."

"It's my loveable charm," he said sardonically, and the older wolf could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

Malia didn't answer, and Derek looked to find her giving Isaac a disbelieving glare. After a moment, she shifted her glance to her cousin. "Why the hell did you turn this asshole?"

"It's a long story," he told her, refocusing his attention on their surroundings. "One that you don't need to hear."

"What?" Malia asked. "A tragic past or something? We've all got those."

Derek rolled his eyes. She wasn't wrong, at least in present company. And as annoyed as he was at Isaac for being a sarcastic asshole, he knew that the boy wasn't doing it just because. Derek could smell his chemo signals, and he knew that Isaac was just trying to cope.

"As much as I would like to have a pissing contest about tragic backstories, we need to focus on finding Lydia," Derek deadpanned.

"If someone would shut up…" Malia muttered, crossing her arms.

With a groan, Derek turned around to face them. "Both of you shut up! Focus on finding Lydia's scent!"

"But it's not –"

"I don't care!" he snapped. "Shut it!"

Malia huffed, walking off of the trail. "I'm gonna see if I can catch anything this way!"

"Call if you do!" Derek called after her.

The two boys walked in silence for a few minutes, and Isaac's chemo signals were getting stronger.

"Hey," Derek said, stopping him. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Isaac said with a shrug.

"Isaac," he said, raising an eyebrow. "This is the first time you've been back to Beacon Hills in almost a year. It's also the first time you've been in these woods since you helped with Malia."

"And?" Isaac asked. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find the best way to go about what he was trying to say. "I just…I know what it's like coming back for the first time after…after losing somebody. It's not easy."

The younger boy's eyes closed as he took a deep breath. When he opened them again, there were unshed tears. "Everything reminds me of her, Derek. I'm trying not to think about it, but I can't help it. I don't know how everyone else can just walk around like her essence isn't in absolutely everything."

"They don't," Derek said. " _I_ don't. She is everywhere, Isaac. She's in these woods, she's in the school, she's in the hospital. Hell, she's even in the loft. But the rest of us have been able to get used to that and find some comfort in it. You haven't been able to do that, yet."

"I don't know, Derek," he said, shaking his head. "Maybe I wasn't ready to come back."

"You'll never be ready to come back if you're not willing to deal with pain, Isaac." Derek shrugged and started walking again. "When you lost your dad, did you just stop feeling pain one day, even though you grieved here?"

"I learned to deal with it," Isaac admitted. "But he wasn't everywhere, Derek. I didn't see memories of him everywhere I went."

"It doesn't matter," Derek told him. "You're never going to be 'ready' to come back. There's no way to just get over it. You have to learn to get through it. That's what grief is, Isaac. To this day, I still see my family everywhere in this town, and for a long time I didn't come back because of it. It wasn't until Laura died that I even thought about coming back."

"It's not just her," Isaac admitted, his voice shaky. "She was just...she was the final straw, you know? I had already lost both my parents, and most of my pack, and I just…when I lost her, I couldn't take it anymore, you know? It was too much, and I didn't want to deal with it anymore. So when Chris said that he was leaving, I went with him. I felt like a coward doing it, but I did. When he told me that he was coming back, I felt even more like a coward when I told him that I was staying in France. I mean, here was this guy whose entire family crumbled in this town, and he came back like it was nothing because they needed his help." He sniffed, a small laugh escaping him. "And here I am, talking to another man whose entire family _and_ pack crumbled around him. God, I'm an idiot."

Derek looked at him for a moment before answering. "No, you're not an idiot. You just haven't been hardened by everything that's happened to you. That's admirable."

Isaac shrugged, wiping at his eyes to keep tears from falling. "It doesn't feel admirable."

"It is," he assured the boy, squeezing his shoulder. "I would hate for you to be like that. I would hate for you to be like me."

"You turned out pretty well," Isaac said with a shrug.

Derek couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, okay."

Malia ran back into the clearing, confusion settling on her face as she took in the scene in front of her. "There was nothing that way. Everything okay?"

"Fine," Isaac said abruptly before Derek could answer. "Let's keep looking."

He stalked away, leaving Malia to look at Derek.

"What's he upset about?" she asked.

"It's another long story," Derek told her. "Just…go easy on him, okay?"

"He's the one who started all of it!" she said.

"I really don't care," he said. "He's having a rough time adjusting back, so if you could just go easy on him, I would really appreciate it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, assessing him. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he told her. "He's part of the pack."

"Fine," she said. "I'll try to go easy on him. But if he gets any more infuriating, I can't make any promises."

She walked after Isaac, and Derek sighed.

Yeah, he was definitely going to end up killing some betas.

''''''''''

Stiles sat in the Jeep, staring at the Martin house as the sun sank below the horizon. He had ten missed calls and four voicemails from Mrs. Martin, and he knew that he had to tell her what was going on.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Scott asked from the passenger seat. He insisted on being there for moral support.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "Even if we don't tell her everything, we have to tell her what happened to Lydia."

"Okay," Scott said. "Are you ready?"

"No," he admitted. "But I don't have a choice."

He opened the Jeep door, getting out and heading towards the house. His hands were shaking as he knocked, Scott right beside him.

"Why haven't you been answering your phone?" Mrs. Martin exclaimed when she opened the door.

"I'm sorry," he said, trying to control the tremor in his voice. "It's not that I'm ignoring you, I promise."

She let them in, moving their conversation to the living room. "I take it that Lydia's not with you."

His chest tightened as he shook his head. "No, she's not."

"Do you know where she is?" she asked. "She was supposed to be home hours ago. I'm getting worried. Especially now that I know she's not with you."

"I, uh, I don't know…where she is," he told her.

She looked at him and what little anger that she had in her expression was gone, replaced by more worry. "What's wrong, Stiles?"

He looked at his best friend, pleading for him to take over. He couldn't do this. He couldn't tell the mother of the woman he loved that she was missing. It was too much.

Scott got the message, giving him a small nod before turning back to Natalie. "Mrs. Martin, I think you might want to sit down."

Slowly, she lowered herself into the chair. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"We don't know," Scott admitted, sitting at the couch. Stiles followed suit, trying to control his breathing.

"What is it?" she asked, her voice shaking as tears filled her eyes.

Scott took a moment before continuing. "We think that Lydia's been taken."

"Taken?" she asked. "Like abducted?"

Scott nodded.

"Then why aren't the police here to tell me?" she asked. "You told the police, didn't you?"

"We told my dad," Stiles told her.

"Then why aren't there deputies here?"

"We're not involving the police," Scott said. "Not yet, anyway."

Natalie stood up, anger coming off of her in waves. "AND WHY THE HELL NOT?"

"Mrs. Martin," Stiles cut in. "This isn't really a police matter."

"I'm pretty sure abduction falls in their jurisdiction!" she argued.

"Not this one," he insisted.

She looked at him, fury clear in her eyes as she stepped towards him. "My daughter – my _pregnant_ daughter – is out there somewhere, her life _and_ her future child's life in danger, but it's not a police matter?"

"Please just trust me," he begged. "We're handling it."

" _You're_ handling it?" she asked, giving him an incredulous look. "Oh, well she's saved then, right? I mean, you did so well on handling the contraception issue that I totally trust you to take care of my daughter's _life in danger_!"

She was just on the edge of hysterical, and honestly, Stiles couldn't blame her. He was barely holding it together himself.

"Mrs. Martin," Scott said, standing up to face her. "This isn't a normal abduction, and it's definitely not something the police can handle. But I can promise you that I won't let anything happen to her."

" _You_ won't let anything happen to her?" She took Scott by the shoulders, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Scott, I know you're smart. You can't honestly be so naïve to think that you can do this on your own. Or even with Stiles' help."

"We won't be doing it by ourselves," Scott explained. "We have help, but you have to trust us. If we can't find her soon, then we can get the police involved, we just have to give Sheriff Stilinski the okay. But just give us a few more hours."

She shook her head, stepping away from them. "I don't think that I can do that. What could possibly make you think that you can do this on your own?"

"Because we've done it before," he assured her. "I don't have time to explain right now, but we know what we're doing."

She stared into Scott's eyes, and Stiles knew that she saw his compassion and determination. With a sigh, her shoulders relaxed as she rubbed her forehead. "Fine, I'll give you until morning. But I'm still calling your father."

"Fine," Stiles nodded. "Talk to him all you want."

Natalie took a shaky breath before looking at them again. "I'm trusting you two with my daughter's life, and my grandchild's life. I hope you realize how big that is. And what will happen if you break that trust."

Stiles nodded. "We'll find her. I promise."

* * *

 **As always, I'd love to know what you guys think!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, guys, here you go! I hope you like it!**

 **Also, big shoutout to Miss Savvy xoxo, who always reviews, not only on this story, but on basically all of my stories! I appreciate you so much!**

* * *

"Why are you doing this?" Lydia asked. She had stayed silent as she watched the woman clean and organize her arsenal, but she was determined to figure out who this bitch was. She had watched as the light coming through the small window had changed, finally becoming nothing more than streetlights.

"Do you really care?" she replied, turning towards Lydia. "Do you really care _why_ I'm doing this? All you should care about is that I'm killing your precious Alpha."

"That doesn't make any sense," Lydia said. "Scott has done nothing but help people, and he would never hurt anybody unless he didn't have a choice. And he would never kill anyone. Ever."

"Yeah…I don't care."

"How can you not care?" she asked, raising her voice. "Don't hunters have a code? _Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent_? We hunt those who hunt us? Scott's not hunting anybody."

The woman spun around, narrowing her eyes at Lydia.

"Do you honestly think that I care about some fucking code?" she said. "I don't give a fuck if Scott hasn't hunted anybody. All I care about is that killing your precious Alpha is going to pay the bills."

Lydia leaned back as the realization hit her. "You're a mercenary."

"You really are smart!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

"So then who hired you?" Lydia asked.

The mercenary laughed, walking towards Lydia deliberately. "You see, I could tell you that, and it might be a really good story." She stepped into Lydia's blind-spot. "But if I told you, than I _would_ have a definite reason to kill you, and I'm not sure whether I want to do that yet or not, considering I won't get paid for it."

It was Lydia's turn to laugh bitterly. "So you only throw away your morals when there's money involved. Nice."

She came to the side of the chair, resting her hand on the back as she leaned in. "It's really not that much different than anyone else's. And it pays the bills, so I'm not complaining."

As much as Lydia wanted to shrink away, she refused to give the woman in front of her that satisfaction. Instead, she pushed out her chin defiantly and stared the mercenary down. They kept eye contact for a moment, the woman giving her a smirk as the time elapsed.

"You're brave," she muttered lowly, studying Lydia's face. "Either that or stupid. I would think that you would whatever you could to _not_ give me a reason to hurt you. At least, if you want to keep the baby as much as you say you do."

Lydia's jaw clenched, and she tried to channel as much of her rage as she could through her eyes. Her smirk widened to a grin before she pushed back and walked back towards the table. After looking over her weapons, she picked up a small knife and a six-shot pistol, making her way back over to Lydia.

"Now," she said, studying Lydia. "Is it just me, or has McCall sweated enough? He doesn't seem to me like the person who handles having someone from his pack taken for too long."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked, fear filling her as she looked warily at the gun.

"It's been hours since you've been taken," she said. "and he strikes me as one who wouldn't take that lightly. So if you screamed, he would definitely come running, right?"

"I'm not screaming," Lydia told her. "It's not happening."

"That's what I thought you'd say," the mercenary told her. She held up the pistol, pulling out chamber load and spinning it. Lydia only saw one bullet. "So I thought we'd play a little game."

She closed it when it stopped spinning, giving Lydia a grin. "Wanna play?"

Lydia stayed silent, trying her best to keep her fear from showing. She knew that it wasn't working.

The mercenary pointed the gun at her head, before smirking and slowly moving it muzzle down to her stomach. "Do you really wanna risk it?"

Lydia couldn't help her breath quickening as her heart pounded in her chest. There was a five-in-six chance that she would shoot nothing, but was she willing to take that chance? Especially when it was pointed straight at her future child?

The mercenary clicked off the safety, and Lydia sucked in a breath as the gun went off.

''''''''''

"Her name is Cara Anaheim," Braeden explained. "She's the only one that has this M.O."

"What's the M.O.?" Scott asked.

"She doesn't do it every time," she answered. "But she is the only one who does. She'll take someone that the target is close to, manipulating them to walk willingly to their own death."

"Well, it's kind of working," Scott admitted, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Well, we're not letting you walk to your own death," Derek told him.

"I promised her that I would protect her and the baby, Derek," he said, rubbing his hand down his face. "I let her down not even an hour after I made that promise."

"You're still going to protect her," Stiles cut in. "We're going to find her and protect her."

Scott nodded at him. "I know we're going to find her, but I shouldn't have let it happen in the first place."

"You weren't the only one who could've stopped it," Stiles told him.

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm. It had been hours since Lydia had called him, and they weren't anywhere close to finding her. How could he be a good Alpha and keep his promise to protect her and the baby after it was born when he couldn't even do it right now?

He heard a scream in the distance. Lydia's scream.

His head popped up and he made eye contact with Derek, whose eyes looked as wide as his felt.

"What?" Stiles asked. "What's going on?"

"Lydia screamed," Derek said.

There was a brief second of stillness before they all jumped up to follow the scream.

''''''''''

The mercenary laughed, pulling the gun away from Lydia.

She had shot a blank, and now Scott was probably running to his death.

"Perfect!" she exclaimed, going to the table and picking up a side-arm.

Panic filled Lydia as the mercenary examined it. She had walked right into that trap, and now Scott was to die because of it.

"No, no, no, no," she muttered, her vision blurring with tears. This was too familiar. The circumstances were completely different, but the end result was going to be the same.

One of her friends were going to die because she led them straight to their killer.

Lydia desperately tried to get out of her bindings, but she knew that it was useless. Her panic rose as she realized just how much she messed up. Her fear had gotten the best of her.

"Please don't do this!" Lydia pleaded, not caring about her pride at the moment. All she cared about was saving Scott. "You don't have to do this. Please don't."

"You're right," she nodded, picking up a rifle and studying it. "I don't _have_ to do it. But I'm going to."

"No." Her voice broke as the tears spilled over. This couldn't be happening. But it was, and she had let it happen. Her friend was going to die because of her. Again.

She felt the dread of imminent death, and her panic intensified. She couldn't lose Scott. They needed him. _She_ needed him. If he died, she didn't know what she would do. She had already lost too many people in her life.

He wouldn't be able to go to college, he wouldn't be a veterinarian, he wouldn't get married, he wouldn't have kids. He would never even get to meet hers.

A sob escaped her, and she bowed her head to hide her tears. Her hands were balled up into fists, and she pulled on the handcuffs to no avail. If only she could get out, she could at least try to fight. As soon as she thought it, she knew that it was a bad idea. It wouldn't be hand-to-hand combat. She would be up against whatever weapon that this bitch chose, and Lydia wouldn't be fast enough to get one of her own.

Scott was going to die, and she couldn't do anything but watch.

''''''''''

Stiles knew that he was driving well over the speed limit, but he really didn't give a fuck. Scott and Derek were giving him directions to where the scream was, and he was determined to get there before something happened to her.

If he wasn't too late already.

It was an unspoken fact that between the group that this was a trap. But Stiles already had a plan forming to possibly make it work out in their favor.

"Turn left," Derek said from the back seat. "We're almost there."

Barely slowing down, Stiles made the turn, thankful that there was no one else on the street. Not that he expected other cars to be around at two in the morning. Out of his peripheral, he saw Scott slam into the passenger window and heard as he hit his head.

"Sorry," Stiles said as he regained the speed he lost.

"It's okay," Scott told him. "Just drive."

Stiles pushed down the petal even further, gaining more speed. He was going to get to Lydia as fast as he could, and nothing was going to stop him.

''''''''''

"Okay, not you're just being annoying with all of that crying," the mercenary told her. "I realize some of it's the hormones, but damn, woman, get a hold of yourself."

Lydia's head snapped up, rage boiling inside of her. "Fuck you."

"Language," the woman chided. "Don't want your baby learning that kind of talk in utero."

"It can't even hear yet!" Lydia snapped, pulling on the handcuffs.

The slam of a door sounded outside, and the mercenary smiled. "Show time."

She grabbed the duct-tape, moving towards Lydia. Before Lydia could react, there was tape over her mouth. Lydia glared at her as she pulled out her side-arm and pushed herself up against the wall by the door.

There was noise downstairs as they searched the building – from the echo, she figured that this was some kind of warehouse – and part of her silently begged that they didn't find her. The dread was getting stronger the closer the footsteps got, and she didn't want anyone else to die because of her. She couldn't handle it if someone else from her pack died.

The door slammed open, Scott and Stiles bursting through. They stopped as soon as they saw her.

"Lydia," Stiles breathed. She tried to convey with her eyes that the mercenary was behind them, but they were apparently too focused on her and not what she was trying to say. In a flash, the mercenary struck, hitting Stiles wrist with the butt of her gun. He cried out as the bat fell from his hands, and she twisted his arm behind his back and held it with one hand while putting the gun to his head with the other.

Scott spun around, growling as he shifted to an attack stance.

"Uh, uh, uh," she said, taking the safety off. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Slowly, Scott stood back up, holding his hands out in surrender. "You don't have to do this. I'm the one that you want."

"True," she said, tilting her head to the side. "But some leverage is always nice."

She pushed Stiles forward, repositioning the gun and firing as she did so.

"No!" Scott yelled.

Lydia yelled through the duct-tape, struggling against her bonds as her desire to get to him grew. Stiles cried out as he hit the ground, rolling over and clutching his left shoulder. But she didn't feel the urge to scream. In fact, the dread was fading.

"Don't worry," she said, leveling the gun at Scott. "It's not fatal. The only way he'll die is if he bleeds out."

Lydia knew that was true, both by her instinct for death and seeing where the blood was coming from. She squealed, still pulling at her cuffs.

"Now," the mercenary said, her tone one of professionalism. "If you don't want him to die, go untie Lydia, and she can take him to the hospital while I kill you."

"Scott, don't," Stiles told him, trying to sit up. "Don't do it."

Scott looked between his best friend and Lydia, and she knew that his mind was made up. Viciously, she shook her head as he made his way to her. He looked at her for a moment, giving her his stupid reassuring smile before ripping off the duct-tape.

"Scott, please, no," she begged, tears streaming down her face as he untied her legs. "D-don't do this. We need you. I need you."

"I don't have a choice," he told her, looking at her with tears in his own eyes. "I need to protect you guys. I promised that I would protect you guys."

He looked at her waist, and she closed her eyes as he reached out and rested his hand there.

"Can you, uh…" his voice broke, and Lydia held back a sob. "Can you make sure to tell this baby how much Uncle Scott loves it? Make sure it knows that, okay? Tell it every day."

Her sob escaped as she shook her head. "No, Scott, please. You need to be here. You have to tell the baby that, okay? You can't do this. This baby has an entire life where it'll need you. You have to be there for it."

"We both know that's not how life always works out," he told her. "Please, promise me."

"Scott…"

"Promise me!"

Finally, she nodded, another sob leaving her. "Okay. I promise."

He broke the handcuffs, and quickly worked on the rope across her chest. Once she was free, she stood up and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

She squeezed him tighter. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he whispered, giving her a squeeze before letting her go. "Now get Stiles to the hospital."

"Scott, NO!" Stiles yelled, pushing himself up.

Before Lydia could move, a gunshot went off, but it wasn't from the mercenary. In fact, she dropped the gun with a shout, blood pouring from her hand.

Braeden walked through the door, her gun trained on the woman. "Cara, long time, no see."

"Braeden?" the mercenary – whose name was apparently Cara – asked, confusion settling on her face. "What the hell are you doing with them?"

"Helping them," she said, clicking the safety to shoot again as she stepped towards the girl. "Who hired you?"

"You of all people think that I'm going to tell you that?" Cara asked, a sly smile on her face. "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you."

"So you don't know?" Lydia asked.

"Too bad," Braeden shrugged, quickly closing the distance between her and Cara and knocking the girl out with the butt of her gun. She looked at the mercenary for a second before shrugging again. "She can at least give the police contact information."

A groan came from the floor, and Lydia ran to Stiles. His skin was pale, and there was sweat on his forehead. She took off her sweater with shaking hands, using it to put pressure on the wound. He cried out when she pushed down, his face contorting in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she told him.

"No, no," he whispered, wincing as he tried to move. "Pain's a good thing."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Does anyone have their phone to call an ambulance?"

"Kira's on it," Braeden told her. Lydia looked up to find Kira in the doorway, talking on the phone. She hadn't even realized that the girl was there.

Lydia felt something wet on her hands, and she looked down to realize that her sweater was getting ruined much faster than she thought it should. Stiles pressed his lips together, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. He had gotten paler, and it was starting to scare her.

"Stiles," she snapped, pushing down harder on the wound. "Stiles, keep your eyes open!"

Scott was on the other side of his best friend in a second, grabbing his hand. His veins turned black as he took the pain, and Stiles opened his eyes with a gasp.

"Scott, no." Lydia didn't like how weak his voice was. He was losing too much blood.

She locked eyes with Scott, who looked as worried as she felt. But he nodded at her in reassurance. "The ambulance is almost here."

Sure enough, she heard the faint sirens after a moment, and she nodded back at him, looking at Stiles.

"You're gonna be okay," she told him. The Banshee in her knew that it could be iffy, but it definitely wasn't imminent like she had felt before.

"I…I believe that," he told her slowly, wincing again as she readjusted her hands to put more pressure. "Especially from you."

"You better," she told him. The sirens were loud now, and she heard noises from outside. A few moments later, the paramedics came in with a stretcher and a kit, following Malia. Quickly, they pushed Scott and Lydia away so they could do their work, but Lydia stayed as close as they would let her as they looked at his wound.

"He's gonna be okay, you know."

She turned around to see Derek, giving her reassuring look. She hugged him without thinking, but he didn't seem to mind her bloody hands.

"When did you and Braeden get back?" she asked when she pulled out of the hug.

"Apparently right after you were taken," he told her. "I got to the parking lot right after Scott did."

Parrish and more paramedics made their way into the room, their focus on the mercenary unconscious on the ground. They bandaged her hand as the other paramedics put Stiles on a stretcher, and Parrish pulled out his handcuffs as they got a stretcher ready for Cara.

Lydia followed Stiles closely, finally taking the chance to take in her surroundings. It was a warehouse, and the room she was in was slightly elevated with a small set of stairs that the paramedics had to maneuver. Stiles yelled out when they set the stretcher on the flat ground, and Lydia winced.

"Stiles!"

The Sheriff burst through the outside door, running to his son.

"I'm okay," Stiles said tightly, his jaw set like he was trying to control his pain.

They made their way outside, and it wasn't until they started to put him in the ambulance that the Sheriff looked at her.

"You okay?" he asked, setting a hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, clasping her hands together. "She didn't hurt me."

"Would either of you like to ride with us?" one of the paramedics asked.

"Go," Lydia told him. "I'll meet you guys there."

John nodded, jumping into the back and grabbing onto Stiles' hand. Her heart ached as the door closed, but she knew that Stiles needed his dad with him.

They drove off as the other paramedics came out with Cara. Parrish followed them, stopping by Lydia for a second. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she nodded, holding out her hands. "None of it's mine."

He nodded. "I would offer a ride, but I need to go with the prisoner."

"It's fine," she told him. "I'll meet you there."

He nodded again before getting in the other ambulance. Scott came up beside her, holding up Stiles' car keys. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she nodded. Turning around, she almost ran into Isaac.

"Glad to see you're okay," he said.

"You, too, Isaac," she told him, walking past him to the Jeep. It was only when she got to the door when she realized that he shouldn't be here.

"Isaac?" She spun around, staring at him in disbelief. He gave her an expectant smirk.

"I wondered how long it would take you," he said, grabbing the handle to the back passenger door. "We can have a reunion moment when we get to the hospital."

She nodded, both of them getting in the car as Scott started it. The young Alpha turned to her, compassion clear in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she snapped. "I'm not the one who got shot!"

"But you have been the one stuck with her for hours," he argued. The apologetic look in his eyes reminded her of the stunt he had pulled while he was untying her.

She looked at him for a moment, anger suddenly flaring in her. She opened the glove compartment, pulled out the old California map, and proceeded to hit the boy sitting in the driver's seat with it.

" _How! Fucking! Dare! You! Make! Me! Think! You're! Going! To! Willingly! Die! To! Protect! Me!"_ she practically shrieked, emphasizing each word with at least one hit. He put his arms up defensively, trying to get away from her strikes. She gave him a few more good hits before tossing the map in the floor of the Jeep. Her breathing was heavy, and she knew that her cheeks were flushed with anger. There was a snort of laughter from the backseat, and she threw Isaac a glare. He shut up immediately as she turned back to Scott.

He looked at her with wide eyes, shocked. "I had to make it convincing! It was part of the plan!"

"Oh, the fucking plan!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

"It worked, didn't it?" he asked, straightening up and starting the car.

"Was part of the plan Stiles getting shot?" she asked, crossing her arms across her chest.

"No," he answered. "And you have no idea how horrible I feel about that. But everyone got out alive."

She glared at him as he started driving. "Just fucking drive, you jackass."

* * *

 **Tell me what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry for getting this out late! But it's here, and I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Lydia walked into the Emergency room, immediately spotting Sheriff Stilinski. He was pacing the floor as Kira and Malia sat in chairs near him.

"Sheriff!" she called, making her way to him. "How is he?"

"He's in surgery right now," He explained, resting a hand on her upper arm. "There was no exit wound, so they're going in to remove the bullet. Melissa's trying to find out more."

She nodded, relief filling her. She didn't realize how worried she was, not being able to see him.

Melissa came walking down the hall at that moment, and Lydia had to physically stop herself from meeting her halfway.

"He's doing okay so far," she started, foregoing pleasantries. She was in full-on nurse mode. "The surgery started off well, but he's lost a lot of blood."

"Can we help?" Lydia asked. "We can donate it, can't we?"

"Of course," she nodded.

Scott came to stand next to her. "I'm O, right? That means he can take my blood no matter what."

"Well, I know he can take mine," John said. "Let's go."

"We're the same type," Lydia said, walking with them.

"I'm not taking blood from you," Melissa told her.

"Why not?" she asked. "I want to help."

Melissa stopped, placing her hands on Lydia's shoulders and looking her in the eye. "You can help by going and getting checked out. Stiles will want to make sure that you're okay."

"She didn't do anything to me!" Lydia snapped. "I'm fine."

"It doesn't matter," Melissa told her. "Go get checked out, and get an ultrasound. Periods of high stress can do harm to a developing fetus."

Fear gripped Lydia's heart, and she looked at Scott with wide eyes.

"I can hear the heartbeat just fine," he assured her. "But go get checked out just to be safe, okay?"

"Fine," she sighed.

Melissa squeezed her shoulder. "I'll be back to get you after I set these guys up, okay? Go wait with everyone else."

Nodding, Lydia stepped back and made her way to the group. Derek had appeared, holding a carrier full of coffees. He silently handed her one labelled 'tea' as she sat down. As she looked down, she noticed that there was still blood on her hands. Stiles' blood.

Suddenly, she stood back up, the urge to get the blood off of her stronger than almost anything she's ever felt. "I'll be right back."

She rushed to the bathroom, her chest constricting. She was suddenly hyper-aware of his blood in every pore on her hands and running up the inside of her wrist.

Luckily, it was empty, so she turned on the sink, rinsing off the blood as fast as it would come off, with as much soap as she could. She could feel the tears sting the back of her eyes as her breath got quicker, and she didn't understand. Stiles was going to be okay. He was going to make it out of this. Why was she freaking out about having bloody hands?

The sound of the door opening pulled her out of her freak out, and she turned off the water as Melissa came in.

"You okay, sweetheart?" she asked as Lydia grabbed some paper towels and dried her hands.

"Fine," Lydia told her, forcing a smile on her face. "I just wanted to wash up."

She smoothed out her dress, trying to ignore the blood on it. That couldn't be helped until she got home.

"Let's go get you checked out, okay?" Melissa told her. Lydia nodded, following her out of the bathroom.

''''''''''

"But he's okay?" Dr. Geyer asked, looking at his stepson with concern. Liam had just finished explaining what had happened that night. Well, excluding the supernatural element.

"He seems like he's going to be," Liam shrugged. "But I actually need you to look after someone else."

"Okay, who?" he asked.

"Lydia," Liam explained, becoming uneasy at having to explain why. "She, uh…she was the one who was taken by that girl, and Scott's mom said that she needs to be checked out just in case."

Dr. Geyer nodded. "Okay, but why does that have to be me?"

Liam licked his lips, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Once he was satisfied, he faced his stepfather, taking a deep breath. "Well, because I know that you don't gossip about your patients, and she needs someone who won't do that. You see –" he glanced around again, double checking " –She's pregnant, and her and Stiles' parents are kinda the only ones who know right now other than close friends, and I'm pretty sure that she'd like to keep it that way. At least for now."

His stepfather looked at him in disbelief, blinking a few times as he was probably trying to wrap his head around the news.

"Lydia's pregnant?" he finally asked. Liam just nodded, gnawing on his lower lip, and Dr. Geyer sighed. "Okay, I'll make sure I take care of her."

"Thank you so much," Liam told him, relieved. "I owe you."

"You never owe me, Liam," he said, patting Liam on the shoulder before making his way down the hall.

Liam made his way back to the group, feeling a little better that he could actually do something. Even if it was something small.

'''''''''

"Your blood pressure's a little high," Melissa explained. "But that's understandable with everything that's happened. We need to keep an eye on it, though."

Lydia nodded. "It was okay at my last appointment."

"Good." Melissa said. "The doctor should be here in a few minutes to do the ultrasound."

She made to leave, but Lydia stopped her.

"Can you stay with me?" she asked. "Only if you can, but…I don't want to be alone."

Melissa looked at her for a second, surprised. Finally, she nodded, pulling up a chair next to the examination table. "Is everything okay?"

Lydia looked at her hands, unable to forget what the blood looked like soaking them. Slowly, she shook her head as tears filled her eyes. "No. Nothing's okay. Stiles almost died because I couldn't protect myself, even though I've been training, and I can't do anything but sit here and worry. And now I'm worrying about everything, including the baby, and how the hell I'm going to protect it when it's here when I can't even protect myself?" She shook her head, wiping at the tears that had escaped.

Melissa took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Honey, let me tell you something. You are always going to be worried about their safety, even when there is no supernatural forces involved. Any parent will tell you that. I can't tell you what it's going to be like protecting a baby from all of this, because I didn't go through that. But I can tell you that it's possible. You guys have done a pretty good job protecting each other, and I think that with everyone involved, this baby has a pretty good chance."

Lydia nodded. "That's what I thought, too. But after tonight…"

"But you're okay," Melissa assured her. "The baby's okay, Stiles is injured, but he's going to be okay. You got through it just fine."

"What if we're not so lucky next time?" Lydia asked. "It's not like we haven't been less than lucky before…"

The door opened, revealing Dr. Geyer, Liam's stepfather. "Hi, Lydia. How are you feeling?"

She cleared her throat, giving him a forced smile. "Pretty good. I'm just doing this as a formality."

"Better safe than sorry," he told her, wheeling the ultrasound machine in with him. "Especially when you're pregnant."

Lydia nodded, laying back on the table. "I wasn't really expecting to do an ultrasound today…"

She gestured to her dress, and Dr. Geyer nodded. "I understand. Melissa, could you grab a gown from the drawer?"

"Of course," she said, already making her way to the drawer they were located in. She pulled out one of the thin paper gowns, walking back to the table. "It's not much, but it might make you feel a little more comfortable."

"Thank you," Lydia told her, covering her legs with the gown as she pulled her dress up, ignoring the scars on her side. She had gotten used to them being there after over a year. If Dr. Geyer noticed them, he didn't say anything.

The door opened again, and the Sheriff peeked his head in. "Am I interrupting?"

Lydia sat up immediately, worry filling her. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he assured, entering the room and closing the door. "I just thought that you might want some company, but if you don't, that's okay."

She looked at Melissa, who shrugged, before turning back to him. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"Hello, Sheriff," Dr. Geyer said, giving him a pleasant smile as he started up the machine. "Everything all right?"

"Pretty good," he admitted. "After my son gets out of surgery, I'll be even better."

Dr. Geyer nodded. "I understand. Liam filled me in on what happened. Said to make sure that I was the one who checked on Lydia."

Lydia couldn't help but smile at that. Liam may have been a pain in the ass when he first became a part of the Pack, but once he accepted it and let Scott help him, he had been a great addition to their little group.

"He's a great kid," John told him.

Dr. Geyer chuckled. "I like to think so. This is going to be cold."

Lydia winced as he put the gel on her stomach, and John put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She noticed the Band-Aid at the crook of his elbow.

"I haven't witnessed one of these in eighteen years," he admitted with a laugh, but Lydia saw the memories in his eyes. The last time he did this was with Stiles' mom, and she knew that had to bring some pain with the otherwise good memories. She reached up to her shoulder to take his hand, squeezing it as she did so. He looked at her with a smile, even though it didn't completely reach his eyes.

"Then you're about to be amazed at how much better the image has gotten," Geyer told him, placing the wand on her belly and moving it around. The heartbeat filled the room, drawing a sigh of relief out of Lydia as she closed her eyes. She knew that Scott had heard it, but it was nice to be able to hear it for herself. She also hadn't realized just how attached she had become to the person growing inside of her until that moment.

The Sheriff squeezed her hand, causing her to open her eyes and look at him.

"Is that it?" he asked.

"That's it," Melissa nodded, a smile on her face. "It's changed a lot from our boys, hasn't it?"

Lydia looked at the screen, and she saw the difference that she knew she would. It looked slightly more human, even though it couldn't have been much more than an inch long. It took her a moment to realize that the Sheriff wouldn't have been able to see Stiles that clearly when he was in utero. The images didn't have the quality back then that they did today.

She looked back to him, a small smile on her face. "That's your grandchild."

Squeezing her hand again, he pressed his lips together as his eyes became glassy with tears. He sat in the chair that Melissa had previously vacated, not taking his eyes off of the screen once.

After another moment, Dr. Geyer broke the silence that had filled the room. "Everything seems to be just fine, but I would make a follow-up appointment with your regular doctor, all right?"

Lydia nodded, taking another glance at the Sheriff. "Is there any way that we can get pictures?"

"Of course," he nodded, pressing a few buttons before taking the wand off of her stomach. "You can pick them up at the desk in a few moments."

With that, he turned off the machine and took his leave. There was a moment of silence, Melissa putting her hand on John's shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

"I…" his voice broke, and he rested his head in his free hand, rubbing his eyes before continuing. "It just hit me how real this is, you know? I mean, I've known and everything, but this just cements it. And the fact that if that bullet had hit Stiles just an inch or two off, and he never would've…"

He sighed, unable to finish the sentence, but both girls knew exactly what he was thinking. Lydia looked at Melissa, who nodded and kneeled down next to John, taking both of his hands. Lydia wiped off the gel as they talked.

"But it didn't," Melissa told him. "Stiles is okay, the baby's okay, everyone's okay. He's going to be there for everything, and so are you."

Lydia pulled down her dress as he nodded, sliding down from the table. "How about we go get those pictures?"

He took a deep breath, giving her a smile. "I would love that."

''''''''''

"She's been in there a while," Scott said to nobody in particular. It made him nervous to have Lydia out of his sight for any length of time after what just happened. He didn't know if it was the Alpha or the friend. Maybe it was a combination of both.

"She probably had to wait for the doctor," Kira assured him, taking his hand. "Plus, she has the Sheriff and your mom with her. She'll be okay."

"I know," he nodded. "I just need her to be near, you know?"

"I feel that, too," Malia chimed in. "Is that weird?"

"No," Derek said, leaning forward in his chair. "It's a wolf thing. Obviously, when members of your pack are in danger, you get protective of them. But when a Pack member is pregnant, that instinct grows stronger. A lot stronger."

"So that's the reason I wanted to rip somebody's throat out when they knocked into her?" Malia asked.

Derek chuckled. "Yes. It's only going to get stronger the farther along she gets."

"Joy," Isaac drawled, flipping through a health magazine. "So we're just going to become overprotective freaks then? Or is hers worse because she spent so much time as a coyote?"

Malia glared at him, but didn't respond, looking to Derek for an answer instead.

"I actually think Malia's is stronger because she didn't already have a large sense of protection over Lydia," Derek explained, shooting Isaac an annoyed glance. "So that instinct is more sudden, causing a stronger reaction."

"I've always wanted to protect Lydia," Malia interjected. Scot raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. "Except for that one time."

Scott heard hurried footsteps, causing him to look towards the entrance. Natalie stormed over to him, worry and anger clear on her features. He couldn't help but feel anxious at her expression, even though he was the one who called her.

"Where is she?" she asked. "Where's Lydia? Why wouldn't you tell me what happened over the phone?"

"Miss Martin," he started, standing up. "Everything's –"

"I swear to God," she interrupted, taking a step towards him. "If anything happened to Lydia, I'm holding you and Stiles personally responsible –"

"Mom!"

Lydia called from down the hall, walking towards the group with the Sheriff. Natalie seemed to forget about Scott all at once, running down the hall to meet her daughter and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Oh, sweetheart," she said once she pulled out of the hug. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lydia assured her, closing the distance between them and the group. "The baby's fine, too."

"Than what is everyone still doing here?" Miss Martin asked, running her hand through her daughter's hair.

"We're waiting for Stiles to get out of surgery," Lydia explained. "He got shot."

"Shot?" Natalie asked. She looked around at the group, shock plain on her face.

"He'll be okay," the Sheriff told her. "The main reason he had to have surgery was because there wasn't an exit wound, so they have to get the bullet out."

"Oh my God," she said, sitting down with Lydia. "Was he the only one who was hurt?"

"Yeah," Lydia nodded. "Everyone else is okay."

Ms. Martin nodded herself. "That's a positive, at least."

"Yeah," Lydia said. "Now we just have to wait."

'''''''''

"Scott, stop!" Lydia snapped, pushing away the protein bar that he was trying to force on her. "I'm really not hungry."

"It's been over twelve hours since you last ate," he told her. "You need to eat something."

"I've been drinking plenty of water," she assured him, holding her almost empty water bottle. She didn't even bother to mention the two that she had already drank under Scott's insistence. She was getting way too familiar with the ER bathroom. But she was drawing the line at food. "My stomach is in knots right now, Scott. I'm afraid if I eat anything, I'll throw up, and I really don't want to do that."

"What about crackers?" Kira asked. "And I can go grab some of that tea if you want. It'll ease your stomach."

Lydia sighed. "I might be able to eat some crackers."

"Awesome!" Kira said, standing up and grabbing her purse. "I'll be right back."

Scott followed her down the hall, and Lydia leaned back in her seat.

"They're just trying to take care of you," her mom told her. "I appreciate that."

"I know," Lydia nodded. "It just gets a little overbearing, you know? And I know it's only going to be worse after tonight."

"As it should be," Natalie said. She sighed, turning towards her daughter. "Look, I don't know why you were taken, or why your friends felt like they had to handle it on their own, although I do plan to find out. But I decided to trust them, and they didn't disappoint me. So, I guess what I'm saying is…let them protect you. I know you feel like you don't need it, but let them help, okay?"

Lydia bit her lip, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Kira appeared in front of her, a disposable coffee cup in one hand, and a package of peanut butter crackers in the other. "Here you go."

"You just happened to have the tea on you?" Lydia asked, taking the refreshments from her.

Kira shrugged, sitting back in her seat. "I've been keeping tea and peppermints in my bag for a couple of weeks now. You know, just in case."

Lydia's heart warmed at the girl's confession. She never stopped being amazed at how caring Kira was. "Thank you."

Melissa came rushing down the hall with a doctor in surgical scrubs. Everyone stood up, waiting for them to reach the group.

The doctor, a woman not much taller than Lydia with a kind smile, addressed the Sheriff. "Your son is fine. He's in post-op right now, and when we move him to a room we'll let you know so you can see him. There was some damage to the rotator cuff, but with time and possibly some physical therapy, he'll be good as new."

Lydia couldn't help but tear up as relief flooded her. She knew that he would probably be okay, but the confirmation was wonderful.

"Thank you so much," John told her, shaking her hand.

Everyone stepped back as he continued to talk to the doctor, her mom sitting back down. Lydia walked to the closest table, grabbing some tissue to wipe at her eyes.

"You all right?" Derek asked her. He happened to be standing next to the table, and rested a hand on her arm.

"Fine," she nodded, as she dabbed at her eyes so she didn't ruin what little makeup that was left on her face. "It's these damn hormones."

"How far along are you?" he asked. It was then that she remembered that she had never gotten the chance to tell him.

"Ten weeks," she answered. "I'm so sorry that you found out like this. I just…It wasn't something that I wanted to tell you over the phone, you know?"

"I understand," he told her. "I'm still a little miffed, but I understand. I really don't know how I would react if you told me over a text or a call."

"I am sorry," she told him sincerely.

"It's okay," he said. "But that means no more training."

She sighed, knowing that he was going to say that. "I know."

Natalie came over to them, shooting Derek a smile as she held out her hand. "I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met. I'm Lydia's mom."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Apparently the Pack weren't the only ones who were going to get more protective.

"Derek Hale," he replied, taking her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You as well," her mom said, recognition on her face when she heard his name.

"I should go," Derek stated, turning back to Lydia. "See what Braeden could find out."

"Go ahead," Lydia assured him. "Keep us posted, okay?"

"We will." He squeezed her arm gently, giving her a comforting smile. "Call me if you need anything."

"Sure thing."

Derek left as Lydia sat back down with her mom.

"How do you know Derek Hale?" Natalie asked after a moment.

Sighing, Lydia shifted in her seat. "It's a long story."

* * *

 **As always, I love hearing your thoughts!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, guys, here we go!**

* * *

The first thing Stiles noticed was that he wasn't wearing pants. Weird. He always wore pants, even to bed. Why the hell wouldn't he be wearing pants?

 _A gunshot. Lydia's muffled scream. Pain. Excruciating pain._

Stiles eyes flew open, and he squinted at the sudden light. It was dim, but it still hurt his eyes. What time was it?

He felt sluggish, his body taking its sweet time to catch up to his thoughts. After a few seconds, he looked to the window, blinking as he acknowledged that it was dark outside. It was night time. Or early morning. He wasn't completely sure. But either answer explained the dimmer light.

He went to rub the sleep from his eyes, but winced as a sharp pain went through his left shoulder. Looking down, he noticed that it was in a sling. That's right. That's where he got shot. Shouldn't it hurt more?

"Hey, kid." He heard his dad's voice, and looked to his right. His dad was sitting in a chair by the bed, giving him a smile. The smile was full of exhaustion and worry, but it was genuine.

"Hi," Stiles said, his voice hoarse. He looked around the room, looking for strawberry blonde hair, but his dad was the only one there. "Where's Lydia? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," his dad assured him. "She went to the bathroom. I made Scott go home to get Isaac settled back in."

"What about the baby?" he asked, his mouth seeming to be the only thing as fast as his mind. "Did you make sure that she got checked out?"

John's smile spread to a grin, as he reached behind him and pulled out his wallet. "The baby's great."

Stiles narrowed his eyes, confused as to why his dad was reacting the way he was. "Okay?"

"I got to be there for the ultrasound," John explained, opening his wallet and pulling something out of it. "It was amazing. So much more detailed than when I saw you, you know? But we got pictures."

He flipped the paper around, showing Stiles a picture of the ultrasound. It was small, but it was starting to actually look like a person.

"There's your baby," his dad said. "My grandbaby."

Stiles took the picture, and couldn't help but smile, both at the picture and his dad's enthusiasm.

"My little kumquat," he muttered, staring at the picture.

"Kumquat?" John asked, confused.

Stiles slowly nodded, his head still fuzzy. "Yeah. It's supposed to be the size of a kumquat at ten weeks." A thought struck him, and he looked at his dad in alarm, trying to sit up. "She's still ten weeks, right? How long have I been out?"

John chuckled, placing a hand on Stiles' good shoulder to keep him down. "Not so fast. You haven't been out that long. Just a few hours."

Stiles relaxed, relieved. "Good, good."

He winced as he shifted, the pain in his left shoulder making itself known. It was a dull pain, and as much as they probably had to dig to get the bullet out, he knew that they had given him some good drugs.

"You're awake!"

Lydia came to stand next to the Sheriff, a smile on her face as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he said. "Kind of sluggish."

"That's the morphine," Lydia told him, taking his hand and taking the picture from him. She bit her lip as she looked down at it, obviously trying not to smile. "I see you got the picture."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "It's looking slightly less alien-like."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Yes, it is." She handed it back to the Sheriff, who looked at it for a moment before putting it back in his wallet.

They were all silent for a moment, Lydia looking at their intertwined hands. Stiles looked her over, trying to see if she was physically okay. He couldn't see anything wrong, but he did feel a bandage on her hand, and he assumed that it was a scrape from when she probably fell when she was first taken. Her slightly hunched shoulders didn't escape his notice, and neither, did the exhaustion clear on her face.

"I'm going to go get some coffee," his dad said softly, sensing the emotions between them. He pushed his chair back slightly to get up and left the room.

There was another moment of silence, and Lydia gnawed on her bottom lip. Her eyes were hidden by her looking down at their hands. Stiles wanted to say something, but he didn't know where to begin.

He felt a drop of wetness land on his hand, but Lydia started talking before he could.

"I could've lost you." Her voice was strained, like she was trying to control her emotions. " _We_ could've lost you."

His chest tightened as he looked at her, and he couldn't help the emotion building inside him. "I could've lost you, too, Lydia. You were alone with an assassin."

"She wasn't going to hurt me," she argued, shaking her head. "I wasn't her paycheck, I was just her way to get to Scott."

"Yeah, but we didn't know that," he told her, pulling his hand out of hers and gently pushing her chin up. "They heard you scream, and we all jumped into action, because we didn't know why you screamed. Maybe it wasn't the best plan, but it worked, didn't it?"

She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Not without you getting hurt. Just a few more inches, and you would've been dead, Stiles. _Dead._ What was I supposed to do with that? What about your dad?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head as tears came to his eyes. "It's not like I planned to get shot."

"And I didn't plan to get kidnapped," she insisted, taking his hand again. "That's not the point. The point is that you could've died, and I don't know what I would do if that happened."

She took a deep breath, a tear rolling down her cheek as she blinked. "You're the one who told me that death doesn't happen to the person who dies. You would be gone, but I would be the one left here. I would be alone, pregnant with a child who would never know their father, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to do all of this without you."

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as the imagery filled his mind. He knew how close he had gotten to that being a reality, but he didn't want to focus on it. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder spiked, and he held in a groan. Lydia reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the remote that controlled the bed and handing it to him.

"Lydia," he started as he inclined the bed so he could sit up and see her better. It still shifted his shoulder, but there wasn't nearly as much pain. When he was sitting up more, he cupped her cheek so she would look at him. "Lydia, I know how close we got to that, and I would never want to do that to you. But we also got close to losing you, Lydia. You and the baby. I couldn't let that happen."

He had to admit that he had gotten attached to the baby, even if it wasn't even big enough to give her a bump yet. Before their decision was made, he hadn't let himself get attached, mostly because he was terrified at the possibility of being a parent. But in the past few weeks, he had slowly become used to the idea of being a father. It wasn't until he thought that he could lose the baby that he realized how much he had grown to care for the little being that had been growing inside of Lydia.

"What, so you would rather die?" she asked.

"That wasn't the plan," he told her, trying to make her understand. "But yeah, it could've happened, and if it meant saving you, I would've died. I can't lose you Lydia. I'd still go out of my mind."

"How do you think I'd feel if you died?" she snapped, standing up suddenly. "Do you honestly think that I would be fine if you went and got yourself killed?"

"No, of course not –"

"I don't even know if I could pretend to keep myself together," she continued, throwing her arms out to the side. "I've lost a lot, and I've forced myself to pretend that I'm okay – in fact, I got really good at it – but losing you would be my breaking point!"

All Stiles could do was look at her. Her eyes were fierce even as tears spilled out of them, and as she stood there looking at him, he noticed that her hand gravitated towards her stomach. She hadn't done that before, and he couldn't help but think that it had something to do with the fear of possibly losing their child.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't know what to say," he told her honestly. "We both could've died, but we didn't. We could've lost the baby, but we didn't. Can't we just focus on that?"

"I want to," she admitted, calming down slightly as she sat down in the chair. "But I can't just focus on that. Because if we focus just on the fact that we didn't die, than we can't think on how to not let it happen again." She took his hand, looking him in the eye. "We have to be better, Stiles. If we have any chance of being able to protect our kid, we have to do better."

Slowly, he nodded, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles. "Okay. We'll do better."

''''''''''

"What do you think you're doing?"

John looked up from his cup of coffee, which he had just put sugar in, to see Melissa staring at him with a raised brow.

"Getting some coffee," he told her, holding up his cup as he grabbed a lid. She took the cup from his hand smoothly, turning and leaning back against the counter.

"You need sleep, not coffee," she told him, leaning her head back to look at him.

He turned to her, trying to grab the coffee, but she pulled it away from him. "I'm not the patient, Melissa."

"But you are my friend," she said, taking a sip from the cup. He raised his eyebrows at her, trying to fight back a smile at her gall. She simply smiled at him in response. "And as your friend, I want you to take care of yourself. And that means rest."

"What about you?" he asked. "You need to take care of yourself, too."

"I do," she countered. "But right now, I'm on shift, so I have to take care of everyone else."

"You do that when you're not on shift," he said, grabbing another cup.

"Don't even think about it," she told him. "If you want stay here with Stiles, I understand, but I'll get you a cot so you can get some sleep."

"There you are," he said. "Taking care of everyone else."

"It's my job," she shrugged.

He couldn't help the affection that he felt at her words. She honestly thought that it wasn't that big of a deal that she took care of everyone, but he knew better. She always took care of everyone, whether it was at the hospital or not. It came second nature to her, just like her son. She had taken care of Stiles like he was her own since him and Scott had met, and she had constantly helped him with Claudia, even before he had to admit her to the hospital. After his wife had died, Melissa had been what pulled him out of his drunken grief, taking care of Stiles while John tried to find his way in a world without the woman he loved. He had thanked her for taking care of his son, but he had never thanked her for taking care of him. For saving him. Because at the time, he hadn't realized that's what she had done. If Melissa hadn't cared enough to help, he didn't know what would have happened to him. He was grateful that he never had to find out.

"What's that look for?" she asked, her face scrunching up in question.

He shrugged himself, giving her a small smile. "Nothing. I just wanted to thank you."

She rolled her eyes. "There's no need to thank me for doing my job."

"It's not just about tonight," he told her. "It's for everything. I don't remember the last time that I thanked you, so…thank you."

She smiled, and John didn't miss the blush that made its way on her cheek. She had always gotten flustered when she was complimented or thanked, so it didn't surprise him.

"Well, you're welcome," she finally said. "But considering how much you've helped Scott, I think we're even. So, thanks to you, too."

"My pleasure," he assured. "He helps me more than I help him."

John turned around to lean against the counter next to her, coffee forgotten.

"Why didn't you tell me about the baby?" she asked softly. He stole a glance at her, but she was looking straight ahead.

With a sigh, he rubbed his forehead. "I don't really know, if I'm being honest. At first they weren't even sure what they were gonna do, so I didn't want to tell anyone if Lydia decided not to keep it."

"And when they decided to keep it?" she said, tapping her finger against the cup. "I could've been helping you."

"Maybe that's one of the reasons I didn't tell you," he admitted. "You already help so much. I didn't want to burden you with something else."

She finally looked at him, a fierce look in her eyes. "Let's get something straight. Nothing that has to do with these kids is any kind of burden on me. These kids are my son's Pack, and I'd like to think I'm a part of that. I feel like they're part mine, and you know I felt like that about Stiles long before there even was a Pack. Stiles is like a son to me, and if something's going on with him, I want to know. It will never be a burden."

John nodded, swallowing the emotion that her words brought to him. "Okay. I'll remember that."

"Thank you," she said with a nod of her own.

There was a moment of silence between them before a thought struck John, causing him to grin. "Does that mean the baby gets to call you Grandma?"

She laughed, but nodded as she looked down at the coffee in her hand. "Well, considering they're already calling my son 'Uncle Scott'…I don't see why not, if they want."

She bumped his arm with her shoulder, nodding her head back towards the doorway. "Let's go get you a cot."

''''''''''

Braeden sat across from Cara, studying her. She was calm, collected, studying her injured hand, despite the fact that she was in an interrogation room.

Braeden honestly hadn't expected anything less.

"Are you going to ask questions at some point?" Cara finally asked, her tone one of complete boredom. "If I want to be sitting in complete silence I can just go back to my cell."

"Are you going to answer the questions I ask?" Braeden countered.

Cara shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "Depends on the question."

Narrowing her eyes at her, Braeden decided that this would be as good a time as any to start her line of questioning. "Who hired you?"

"I don't know," Cara said. "They didn't give me their names. I got an anonymous contact, and an untraceable account gave me the faith payment."

"So you have no idea who wants to kill Scott?" Braeden asked.

"Nope," the other girl said, shaking her head. "Not much help, am I?"

"No, you're not," Braeden agreed. "But you can give us the account number."

"I told you, it's untraceable."

"I don't care," Braeden said, pushing a pad and pen to the girl across from her. "It's all the information you have, so you're gonna give it to me."

Cara pulled the paper towards her with a huff, scribbling down the numbers with ease. Braeden knew that she would have memorized it. It was what every good mercenary did. Even if Braeden hated her for going after Scott, she wouldn't deny that Anaheim wasn't a good killer.

When Cara pushed the pad back to her, she stood up and signaled through the glass for Parrish to get the prisoner. Without another glance in the other girl's direction, Braeden left the room, determined to find out whose bank account was used to pay the mercenary.

Her phone rang, and she answered it as her boyfriend's face showed on the screen.

"Hey," she said, putting the phone to her ear.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Did you get anything out of her?"

"I got an untraceable account number."

There was a sigh on the other end, and she knew that Derek was frustrated. "She didn't have anything else?"

"She claimed that everything was anonymous," Braeden told him. "Which doesn't really surprise me. If whoever hired her had the slightest doubt that she wouldn't succeed, I understand why they wouldn't want their name involved."

"Yeah," Derek said. "You headed home?"

She smiled at that. Home. She hadn't had a true home since she had become a mercenary. But she was starting find one with Derek, and she was completely okay with that.

"I'll be there in a little bit," she told him. "Is Stiles okay?"

"He got out of surgery just fine," he explained. "Lydia and the Sheriff are still there right now. Scott would've stayed, but he wanted to get Isaac settled back in at his house. So everyone's okay."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But it's definitely not over."

"I know," he said. "See you at home?"

"Leaving now," she answered.

They said their goodbyes, and Braeden headed to her car, her mind back on the mission at hand.

She only knew of one enemy Scott had made who wouldn't do the deed themselves, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions without any proof, and that's what she was going to get.

* * *

 **As always, I'd love to know what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, guys! This one's more of a filler chapter, but they're a necessary evil, I think. Enjoy!**

* * *

Natalie set the coffee pot back on the maker, putting extra creamer in it because she knew that Bobby had been the first one in that morning, and he always made it strong. Sitting down at the table, she tried to push off going to her office for as long as possible. She knew that she was needed, that the kids needed someone to talk to, but at this point, she felt like she was the one who needed someone to talk to.

It had been almost two weeks since Lydia had been kidnapped, and her daughter refused to answer the questions she had. In fact, Lydia had barely been home, spending all of her time with Stiles while he was healing. Not that Natalie blamed her. But she wanted to talk to her daughter. She needed answers.

"Hey, Natalie," Finstock said, walking into the Teacher's Lounge.

"Hey, Bobby," she said, giving him a forced smile. "How was track practice?"

"It was practice," he said. "I swear if Stiles can't start running again, soon, I'm gonna bite his head off. I swear he's literally trying to talk my ear off."

"Lydia told me that it's gonna be at least a couple more weeks just to be able to use his arm again," she told him. "So I guess you can say goodbye to your ear."

Bobby groaned, sitting across from her and rubbing his hand over his face. "Lovely. I mean, I'm sorry the kid got shot, but could he just shut up for two seconds?"

Natalie rolled her eyes at him, but couldn't help the smile that found its way on her face. Bobby was too much sometimes. She had known the guy since high school, but it always amazed her at how unfiltered he was. But she also knew that he was a good guy behind all of his crass and sarcastic comments.

"I'm sure if he wasn't there to talk your ear off, you'd miss him," she told him.

"I guess," he shrugged. "But it doesn't mean I can't get annoyed by it now."

She laughed, standing up to put her mug in the sink. "That's true. Just think, in just a few years, you'll have another generation of Stilinski to talk your ear off."

"A few years?" he asked. "God, I hope not. Hopefully twenty atleast. Even then I still won't be ready."

She bit her lip, cursing herself at almost giving it away. Nobody knew yet, and she was going to keep it that way until Lydia told her otherwise. But it was getting harder and harder to not tell anyone.

"Unless you know something I don't," he said, standing up himself.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I meant about twenty years myself, just that it'll get here a lot faster that any of us want to think about."

He narrowed his eyes at her, his suspicion obvious. "I was just joking, but now I'm thinking something's going on here. "

"Nothing," she told him.

"I'm not buying it."

She shrugged, shaking her head again. "What's not to buy?"

"Natalie," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "I've known you since high school. And even though we barely talked after we graduated until you started working here, I still know when you're hiding something. You're hiding something."

She looked at him, determined not to give anything away. "Even if I did know something, it's not my place to tell you, and it's not your business to know. Now I need to get to work."

She left the counter, walking towards the door to leave.

"Is Lydia pregnant?" he asked, concern in his voice.

She wasn't used to him actually showing his concern, and that stopped her in her tracks. She stood there, unable to take another step, but not willing to turn around to face him.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," he sighed.

Finally, Natalie whipped around, closing the distance between them at a speed that surprised both of them.

"You can't tell anybody," she urged him. "She's not ready for everyone to know yet. Please, Bobby."

His eyes were wide as he took in her desperate expression. After a moment he nodded, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to."

"Stiles and Lydia can't know that you know," she told him, taking a step back as she calmed down. It wasn't going to get out through him, but she needed to know that he wouldn't make a big deal with her daughter. "It's the last thing they need right now, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded. "I don't know anything, okay? Nada, zip. Just…calm down."

She nodded, sighing. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," he said. "I don't want to get too involved in my students' personal lives anyway. When I do get involved, it's never willingly."

"No, really, Bobby," she said. "Thank you. I have to get to my office, but thank you."

"Don't mention it," he told her. "Seriously, don't. The less I know, the better."

''''''''''

Lydia looked over her notes as she waited for class to start. She knew exactly what they were going over, but it never hurt to review considering that there was a test in a couple of days. She reminded herself to get together with Scott to study. She slumped forward a little bit, but immediately straightened back up as her skirt dug into her waist.

At almost twelve weeks, she had finally started to notice her clothes getting tighter, and she could just see a tiny bump starting to form. Luckily, she had looser shirts to hide it, as well as a few of her dresses, but she wasn't as fortunate with her skirts and how tight they were. She really needed to go buy some new clothes, even if they weren't from the maternity section yet.

"You okay?" Scott asked from across the aisle, looking at her with concern.

She nodded, pointing to her waist. "My skirt's a little tight."

Kira stood next to Lydia's desk as she came into the classroom. "Do you wanna go shopping this afternoon?"

Lydia smiled at her. Kira always seemed to be looking out for her. "Brilliant idea." Especially since her huge wardrobe had quickly dwindled down to almost nothing.

"Awesome!" Kira exclaimed as the bell rang. "Meet me after school, okay?"

"Will do," she said. Kira gave her a grin before going to sit with Scott as Mrs. Finch walked in.

As she started talking, Lydia took notes, trying to get comfortable with her damn skirt. She knew she shouldn't have worn it, but she was in a hurry and none of the dresses she pulled out of her closet would've been much better.

"Are you okay?" her partner asked after a few minutes of fidgeting.

Lydia nodded, making sure the teacher wasn't looking in her direction before answering. "Yeah, just a little bloated."

The girl nodded in understanding, her gaze empathetic. "Gotcha'. I have some Midol if you need it."

"I'll be okay," Lydia assured her. "Thank you, though."

She went back to taking her notes, nervous about how much longer she could keep her pregnancy a secret from the rest of the world. She was already growing a bump – albeit a tiny one at this point – and she knew if wouldn't be too much longer until she couldn't hide it anymore. She understood that it would happen eventually in concept, but being faced with it was something completely different.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her shirt, rubbing her thumb across her stomach as she did so. It was something that had comforted her the past couple of weeks, and she wasn't completely sure why. She couldn't do it very often, though, seeing as people would start asking questions. But they would come sooner or later, and she didn't know if she was ready to tell the whole world the answer.

''''''''''

John walked to the small kitchen, needing coffee. He grabbed a mug and turned to the coffee maker, his face falling when he saw that there wasn't any coffee in it yet. He could hear it brewing, though, so he leaned back against the counter to wait.

"Hey, Boss," Parrish said, coming into the room.

"Hey," he nodded. "Got anything for me today?"

"No, Sir," Parrish said. "We haven't found anything on that account yet, but Braeden's pulling in all of her contacts to help."

John nodded, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "We need to find whoever hired Anaheim. The problem's not solved until we find the source."

"I know," Parrish said. "Braeden and I are doing everything we can."

"I know, I know," John told him. "It's just…"

It's just that Anaheim had threatened his grandchild and Lydia, as well as wanting to kill Scott, and he needed to find out why.

He took a deep breath, turning to the coffee pot as it dinged.

"It's just that you're worried," Parrish offered softly, taking a step towards John as he lowered his voice. "I get that. I mean if someone had taken the mother of my grandchild –"

There was a clang as the mug dropped back to the counter, John barely catching it before it fell to the ground. He turned back to his deputy, eyes wide. "How the hell do you know about that?"

There was a confused expression on the deputy's face, and he looked to the doorway quickly to make sure that no one was listening. "Lydia told me after the whole ordeal. She told me that couldn't do fight training anymore, and I asked her why. I thought you know that I knew."

"I didn't!" he said. He leaned forward on the counter, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know who knows what anymore. I'm ready for everyone to know just so I can stop worrying about letting it slip!"

"I'm sorry, Sheriff," Parrish said. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You're fine, Parrish," he assured him, straightening back up and grabbing the coffee pot. "Just, uh…get back to work. We don't have to talk about my personal issues."

"If you guys need anything I'm here," Parrish told him. "You know that, right?"

John nodded. "I do, and I appreciate it."

He grabbed a few packets of sugar, and nodded to Parrish. "Tell me when you find something, okay?"

''''''''''

"These are so cute!" Kira exclaimed, pulling a pair of printed jeans off of the rack. She held them up to her, striking a pose for Lydia. They had tried to get Malia to go with them, but the coyote still wasn't too enamored by the whole shopping experience. "What do you think?"

"Perfect," Lydia told her. "I just wish that I could find more for myself."

She had already been to the dressing rooms twice, sizing up on the clothes she picked out. She had found a couple of dresses that were her original size, but on most of them, if she sized up they were like a bag on her. If they were her size, all she could notice was the miniscule bulge of her stomach. Kira had insisted that she couldn't notice, but Lydia just didn't feel comfortable. There were a few skirts that were okay, but she knew that they would be too tight in a few weeks' time, and couldn't bring herself to spend that kind of money on something that she could only wear a few times.

"Do you wanna try the other section?" Kira asked, trying to be casual as she focused her eyes on the rack in front of her.

Lydia sighed, hesitant. "I don't know. I mean, I might be able to wear the skirts longer, but it won't camouflage anything, you know? I don't want to make it obvious before anyone even knows."

"Yeah," Kira nodded. "I understand. Wait, how about this?"

She pulled out a skirt that was slightly longer than what Lydia usually wore, with an elastic waistband that looked like it had some growing room.

"This could work," Lydia said, taking from Kira and studying it.

"And they have different colors!" Kira said, pulling out one in brown and another in denim blue.

"Let's go try them on," Lydia said with a smile.

They made their way to the fitting room, and Lydia hurriedly stepped into the skirt. Studying herself in the mirror, she was satisfied with the way it looked, and how it felt. She pulled on the waistband, smiling as she saw plenty of room to grow. And she could pull the skirt up a little bit if she wanted it to be shorter, so that wasn't a problem.

"Do they feel okay?" Kira asked from the other side of the curtain.

"They're perfect!" Lydia called back. "I'll be out in a second."

She changed back into her original clothes, picking up the skirts and opening the curtain.

"Ready?" Kira asked.

"Finally," Lydia told her. She was starting to feel tired, which was something she never usually felt during a shopping trip. Yet another side effect of growing a human being.

As they made their way to the checkout, they passed the lingerie section, and Kira looked at her curiously.

"Have you needed to get a new bra yet?" she asked.

"No," Lydia said. "But I'm getting close. I need to measure myself before I buy one, though."

"Understood," Kira nodded. "But you might wanna go for a little cheaper, because from what I've read, they're going to grow pretty fast."

"Don't remind me," she said as they got to the checkout.

"Go ahead," Kira told her, something catching her eye. "I'll be right back."

She took off, leaving Lydia to check out her clothes. By the time that she was done, Kira had come back, hiding something under one of the shirts she bought.

"What'd you get?" Lydia asked.

"You'll see," Kira told her. "Go wait by the door."

"Kira –"

"Go!" she insisted, shooing Lydia with her free hand.

With a sigh, Lydia stomped off to the door and waited for Kira.

Her phone went off, and she pulled it out of her purse to read the text.

 _-You wanna head over when you're done?_

She smiled at Stiles' text, quickly sending back a reply.

 _-Always. Be there in a little bit._

Kira stood beside her, a smile on her face.

"What did you get?" Lydia asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

"I'll show when we get to the car," Kira said.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Show me now!"

"No, I want to show you in the –"

"Just go ahead and show me," Lydia demanded, crossing her arms across her chest in defiance. "I hate surprises."

"Fine," Kira said. "But only because they're super adorable."

She dug through her bag, pulling out a small shoe box. Lydia narrowed her eyes at the package, because the only shoes that would be able to fit into that box were –

"You didn't," Lydia said, slowly taking the box.

"I did," Kira nodded, a grin on her face. "I couldn't resist."

Lydia pulled the lid off of the box, revealing a pair of tiny black converse high-tops. Her heart warmed as she picked one up out of the box, and she found tears in her eyes as she smiled at Kira. Fucking hormones.

"Why are you crying?" Kira asked. "Do you not like them? Because we can take them –"

She was cut off by Lydia hugging her as tightly as she could.

Lydia took a deep breath, trying to control her tears. "I love them. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," Kira said, hugging her back. "Like I said, I couldn't resist."

After another moment, she pulled out of the hug, putting the shoes back in the box. "First shoes."

"I'm glad you like them," Kira told her.

They made their way to the car, and once again, Lydia found herself thankful for the people she surrounded herself with.

''''''''''

"How was physical therapy?" Lydia asked as they laid on his bed, Stiles' good arm around her and pulling her close.

"Tiring," he admitted. "Slightly painful. But I'll be out of the sling in a couple of weeks if I keep up my progress."

"That's great!" she said, smiling at him.

"I wish that it could go faster, to be honest," he told her. "I'm sick of not being able to use this arm, you know?"

"At least you can still write," she suggested. "Imagine if it was your right shoulder."

"Oh, God," he groaned. "You're right. Speaking of."

He sat up, getting off the bed and walking to his board. It was pretty bare considering it had been two weeks since it happened, but they just didn't have any information.

"What are we missing?" he asked, taking his marker and chewing on the tip.

"We won't know until Braeden's contacts come through," Lydia told him. "So I really don't know why we're stressing over nothing."

"I'm stressing because whoever it was hired someone to take you – and my child by default – to get to Scott. You know, three of the most important people in the world to me. Not to mention that the person who hired the mercenary is still out there after Scott. So excuse me for stressing out – OW!"

He stilled his left arm, which he had started to talk with out of habit. She knew that it had to be sore form PT, so extra moving didn't feel good at all.

"You okay?" she asked, sitting up.

He nodded, taking a deep breath with his eyes screwed shut. "Just give me a second."

She watched as he breathed, resting his good hand on his bad shoulder, slowly relaxing his muscles. After a moment, he opened his eyes, a small smile settling over his face as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head as he walked back over to her and gesturing to her stomach. "It's just that you're always doing that lately. It's cute."

She looked down, seeing her hands resting on her stomach. She rubbed her thumb across it, shrugging as she looked back up at him. "It's kind of comforting. Kind of like a way to make sure that it's still there."

He gave her a confused look, taking one of her hands as he sat back down. "Why do you need to be reminded of that?"

"I keep having dreams," she admitted after a moment. "It used to be just every few days or so, but since you were shot, I've been having them almost every night."

"What kind of dreams?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across her hand.

She shrugged. "They're not that big of a deal, and they're completely normal, just exaggerated some because of our lives I guess. I, uh…I keep dreaming that I can't protect the baby. Whether it's because I can't get to it, or can't fight the threat, I can't protect it."

"Why haven't you told me?" His brow furrowed in concern, and he looked down as if in thought.

"Because, like I said, It's not really that big a deal," she explained. "They're not premonitions or anything, they're just dreams. But when I wake up from one, I have to remind myself that the baby's okay. That I haven't had it yet. Now that there's a reminder of that –" she patted her stomach, a small smile on her face "– no matter how small, it's easier to remind myself, you know? It's silly, but it works."

"It's not silly," he told her, pulling his hand out of hers and resting it on her cheek. "I worry, too, I just haven't had dreams about it. It's going to be hard, but we can do it. As soon as I'm healed up, I'm getting fighting lessons, and my dad already agreed to show how me how to use a gun. That along with the Pack, it has to be enough."

"But what if it isn't?" she asked him, finally allowing her worry to find its way to the surface. "What if we still can't protect it?"

"Lydia," he said, lifting her chin up so she would look at him. He stared into her eyes, his determination clear. "It will be enough. This isn't the first baby any pack has ever had. The Hales had offspring for centuries with their pack."

"Yeah, and look how that ended!" she exclaimed.

"One accident after centuries of safe children," he countered. "Considering this is the first baby of the McCall Pack, I'd say our odds are pretty good."

She took a deep breath, nodding as he let his hand drop. "You're right. I'm just…I'm being paranoid."

"No," he said. "Just extremely cautious. Which is okay." He settled his hand over hers on her stomach. "But I can tell you now, this kid is going to be so loved and protected that it's not even funny."

"Speaking of love," she said, deciding she should change the subject now that her fears had been eased a little. "Do you wanna see what Aunt Kira got today?"

He grinned at the title that Lydia gave Kira, nodding. "Of course."

Quickly, she got up and ran to the bag by her purse, pulling out the small box that Kira gave her. She handed the box to him, and he looked at her confused. "What is this?"

"Just open it," she told him.

He took off the lid, a grin forming as he picked up one of the shoes. "Of course Kira would get our child their first pair of high tops."

"And she even got a gender-neutral color," Lydia said. "How cute are they?"

"They're adorable," he grinned, putting them back in the box. Biting his lip, he stared at the shoes as he set them on the bed. Lydia watched him for a moment, finally taking one of his hands into hers.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, concerned. She thought that the shoes would make him happy and possibly distract him from the almost blank board, but it apparently had sent him further into thought. Which, if she was being honest, wasn't always the best thing.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I guess it's just slowly sinking in, you know? I mean, I know that there's a human being growing inside of you, but the fact that it's going to be here, and it's going to get here a lot faster than we think. You're already twelve weeks. That's basically a third of the pregnancy, and I haven't even been able to start looking for a job yet."

She placed her free hand on her knee and rubbed it gently. "Everything's going to work out, okay? I mean, I've applied to a few places at the mall, so once I hear back from one of them, we'll have some money coming in. You don't need to worry about that right now. You need to focus on getting better."

Stiles nodded. "I know. It's just…time is going way faster than it should."

"It always does," she said. "We just have to plan and prepare, okay?"

"Okay."

Lydia leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. He responded enthusiastically, putting his hand under her chin as he deepened the kiss. After a moment, she pulled away, resting her forehead against his.

"I love you," she told him. "I love you, and I love our child, and that's all that matters. We can figure everything else out."

"I love you, too," he told her with a small nod.

They stayed like that for a while, taking the time to just be. Lydia appreciated every second of it, because she wasn't sure when they were going to find out who wanted Scott dead, but she knew that things were going to get crazy when they did. So she was going to appreciate every moment of peace that she got before that happened.

* * *

 **As always, I love to know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, lovelies! Here's this week's chapter, the plot actually moves along a little bit so that's a plus. Also, another character that's been gone makes an appearance! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Do you need some help?"

"No."

"You look kind of confused."

"I don't need your help."

"Right, because coyotes do things on their own, right?"

There was a snap, and Malia looked down at the broken pencil in her hand. She had been doing her math homework – well, attempting to – before school started when Isaac found her in the library. She knew that he could be a sarcastic asshole, but even after only three weeks of knowing the guy, she could've sworn that he was singling her out. Most of the time they weren't even good quips. Just anything that his mind could come up with about her being a coyote or living in the woods.

"What the hell do you want, Isaac?" she snapped, throwing the broken pencil onto the table.

"I wanted to see if you needed any help," he told her, shrugging. She glared at him as fiercely as she knew how, but he simply smirked at her.

"I told you that I don't need your help," she told him, grabbing another pencil and looking back down at her homework.

"You skipped a step," he said. "That's why it's not working out."

Her eyes snapped up to him, narrowing them as she assessed him. "How do I know you're not fucking with me?"

"Work out the problem and you'll see," he said, standing up and going to sit next to her. He took the notebook from her, erasing some of the progress she had made. "You're good up until here. But you completely missed this step," he wrote down a line of numbers and symbols, pushing the notebook back towards her. "Now try it."

After giving him a wary glance, she went to work out the problem. After a few minutes, she was done with it, getting a believable answer. She looked at him in surprise, plugging it into her calculator. She had gotten it right.

"How did you know that?" she asked.

"I'm pretty decent at math," he admitted with a slight nod.

"But it doesn't tell me that step in the book," she insisted, opening up her textbook to the page she was referencing.

He looked over the text, nodding in understanding. "It says it right here." He pointed to a small paragraph. "It just doesn't show you how to work it."

"Well that's stupid," she muttered, slamming the book shut.

"I agree," he said. "But that's the textbook the teacher's required to use, so it's not really their fault."

"And you would know that because…"

He shrugged. "Anyone who's grown up in public school knows that."

"And I didn't know it because I lived in the woods, right?" she asked, raising a brow at him.

Isaac put his hands up in mock defense. "You said it, not me."

"Are you sure you don't turn into a donkey when you transform?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I don't," he said slowly, confused. "Why?"

"Well," she said calmly. "Scott told me that sometimes people can take a different form that reflects their true self, and all I can see is a jackass."

She shot him an innocent grin, and he looked like he was trying to glower at her for a second before barking out a laugh. Confused, she simply looked at him while he composed himself.

"That…that's a good one," he told her, wagging his finger at her as he grinned.

"What?" she asked. His reaction was not the intent of her comment. She wanted to annoy him like he had been annoying her. She had tried to go easy on him for Derek's sake, but it had been getting harder and harder the more he bugged her.

"I knew you could be a smartass," he said. "Do you just have to get pissed enough, or what?"

"I don't know," she said, rolling her eyes. "But all I have to do is look at you and the urge to make a smartass comment arises."

"So why haven't you said them?" he asked. "It's fun."

She shrugged, turning back to her notebook. She didn't know if Derek wanted him to know what he had said, but she didn't know what else to say. "Derek told me to take it easy on you, so I have been."

She saw him straighten up out of her peripheral vision, leaning towards her. "Why did he do that?"

"I don't know," she said shrugging again. "He said that you were having a rough time adjusting back, and to go easy on you. He didn't tell me why."

He slowly nodded, his eyes darkening, but Malia couldn't pinpoint an emotion.

"I really just wanted things to go as back to normal as possible," he told her quietly. "I didn't want any special treatment."

"Then you need to tell that to Derek," she said. "Look, I don't know why he wanted to go easy on you, or what tragic backstory you have, but if you want me to make all of my smartass comments, I can definitely do that."

He shot her a smile, and nodded at her. "That would be great. It's more fun when you bicker back."

"I can do that," she said, putting her books in her backpack and standing up. She slung her backpack over her shoulder, giving him a smirk. "But remember, I used to date Stiles, and I picked up a lot of smartassery from him."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his smile turning into a smirk of his own. "I can take it."

"Good."

She turned around and walked away, actually looking forward to the next time she saw him for the first time since she met him. This could be fun.

''''''''''

Stiles sat at the bench in the locker room, waiting on Scott. He hadn't ran in three weeks, so he didn't really have to be in the locker room, but he didn't have anywhere else to be at the moment.

"Did you finish that History report?" Scott asked him as he pulled out a shirt from his locker.

"Barely," Stiles said, checking the time on his phone. The bell was going to ring soon. "But it's done."

Stiles looked back up at his best friend, who was grasping the door of his locker so tight he was in danger of bending it. He couldn't see Scott's face because it was behind the door.

"Buddy?" he asked, standing up slowly and taking a step towards Scott. "What's up?"

Scott backed away from the locker, anger – no, rage – clear on his face. But he took a deep breath and closed the locker as calm as he could. "It's nothing."

"Dude, that's obviously not nothing."

Scott's jaw clenched, but before Stiles could ask what was going on, there was a crash from the other side of the lockers. They looked at each other for a second before running to see the commotion.

"What did you say?" Liam yelled as they turned the corner. He had one of the senior boys pushed up against one of the lockers lining the wall. "Say it again!"

Liam pulled the boy forward only to push him back again.

"What the hell is your problem, man?" the senior asked, fear clear in his eyes.

"I have a problem with you calling one of my friends a slut!" Liam yelled. "Why don't you say it again to my face and see what happens, huh?"

Stiles looked between Liam and Scott, surprised that the Alpha hadn't stopped his beta yet. What the hell was going on?

The senior scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We all know how she is, it's not like she's ever kept it that much of a secret." He made eye contact with Stiles, a smug grin on his face. "You have to know you're not the first, or even the fifth. There's a reason everyone knows that she's such a good fu –"

He was cut off as a punch landed on his face, but it wasn't from Liam. The senior slid down the lockers as Scott stood over him, shaking out his fist.

"You talk like that about her ever again," he threatened, his voice low and menacing. "You're going to wish all you got was a broken nose."

The senior groaned, holding his nose, as blood leaked from between his fingers. Another senior that Stiles knew was one of his friends helped him stand up as Scott and Liam backed off. All Stiles could do was stand there in shock, dread washing over him like a cold shower. He had obviously been talking about Lydia, but why?

"What the hell is going on here?"

Coach Finstock made his way through the small crowd that had formed, surprise on his face when he saw Scott. "What the hell, McCall?"

"I'm sorry, Coach," he said sincerely, but his face held resolve.

"Okay, everyone get to class," Finstock said as the bell rang. "Except for the people involved in this. You guys are going with me to the office."

'''''''''

Lydia looked worriedly at the empty seat across the aisle from her. Kira shrugged as she sent her a questioning look, pulling out her phone to text him.

"Kira," Mrs. Finch said as she organized her papers. "Do you happen to know where your partner is?"

Slowly, Kira shook her head. "I saw him at track practice this morning. But I know he has to have a good reason."

The door opened, and Lydia's hope that it was Scott was dashed as the principal's secretary came in and handed Mrs. Finch a note. Mrs. Finch nodded as she read it, thanking the secretary as she left. As soon as the door closed, she turned to the board and started teaching.

Lydia and Kira looked at each other in confusion, Lydia discreetly pulling out her phone and texting her boyfriend

- _You know where Scott is?_

She looked back at the teacher, taking notes as she waited for a response. Just when she was getting worried about Stiles as well, he finally replied.

- _Principal's office._

Lydia couldn't help the surprise that hit her. She knew that Scott had been in the principal's office before, but not in a long time. What had he done?

- _Why?_

- _Won't tell me._

"Do you have something more important to do, Lydia?" Mrs. Finch asked.

Lydia snapped her head up to see Mrs. Finch looking at her expectantly. Lydia put her phone down, and she knew that her face was flushing in embarrassment.

"No, Mrs. Finch, sorry," she said, turning back to her notebook. "It won't happen again."

"I hope so," Mrs. Finch told her. She continued her lesson, but Lydia barely listened.

'''''''''

Stiles leaned against the wall in the principal's office, watching as the principal leaned forward in his chair.

"Why don't one of you tell me what happened?" he asked, looking between Scott, Liam, and Johnson.

"I was just having a _private_ conversation with one of my friends," Johnson started. "When this little ball of rage just attacked me!"

"And in that conversation," Liam interrupted, seething. "You called one of my friends a slut!"

"You didn't have to listen," Johnson countered.

"You didn't have to assume that you can just verbally degrade my friend!" Liam told him.

"Is it really degrading if it's the truth?"

"That's enough!" Finstock cut in. "Who were you talking about, Johnson?"

"My girlfriend," Stiles said, his anger creeping into his tone. "Because after Liam pushed him up against the locker, he looked right at me and said that there was a reason that everyone knew that she was a good fuck."

"Dear God!" Finstock said as the principal's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What the hell is wrong with you, Johnson?"

Johnson set his jaw, shifting down in his seat.

"Mr. Johnson," the principal said, clearing his throat. "Why exactly did you think it was a good idea to be talking about another student's sex life behind their back?"

He stayed silent for a moment, shifting in his seat again before answering. "My friend told me that she's knocked up."

Stiles' breath caught, and he could feel Coach's eyes on him.

"His sister saw her buying those vitamins and talking to the pharmacist about it when she went to the drugstore over the weekend," Johnson continued. Stiles knew that he was only saying this to get the heat off of himself. A fight in the locker room was one thing, but the probable valedictorian being pregnant? That was way more surprising and gossip-worthy.

Stiles could feel his heart racing as the silence lengthened, and he could feel the stares towards him. He knew that people were going to find out eventually, but he didn't want it to come out like this.

"All right," the principal finally said, shuffling some paper on his desk. "All three of you are getting two weeks of detention."

Johnson straightened up. "I didn't do –"

"Do you want to make it three, Mr. Johnson?" he asked. Johnson slumped back in his chair, and the principal nodded.

"Stiles," he continued. "I would like you to stay here for a few more minutes. You three are excused."

Johnson stood up quickly, getting out of the room as fast as he could. Scott and Liam stood up slower, Scott coming over to Stiles as the principal talked to his secretary through the intercom.

"You okay?" he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Stiles licked his lips, giving Scott a nod. He wasn't sure how reassuring it was. "I'm fine. You should get to class."

"I'm gonna be right outside, okay?" Scott asked. "I'm not leaving you."

"Mr. McCall," the principal said. "If you could excuse us, please?"

Scott squeezed Stiles' shoulder reassuringly before following Liam out.

"If you would sit down, Mr. Stilinski," the principal suggested. "Miss Martin should be here in a few minutes."

Stiles looked at Finstock, who nodded at him, motioning to the chair. Stiles sat down in one of the chairs and waited for Lydia to arrive.

''''''''''

Lydia saw Scott sitting at one of the chairs in the hallway, and she sped up to meet him.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked, completely ignoring the secretary behind them.

"He knows," Scott told her, resting a hand on her arm.

She looked at him in confusion. "Knows what?"

"Lydia," he said, his eyes darting down to her stomach before meeting hers again. " _He knows._ "

Her stomach lurched as realization hit her. She felt her heartbeat quicken as well as her breathing. "What? No. How?"

"Hey, hey, calm down," he told her, rubbing her arm to soothe her. "You need to stay calm if you're going to go in there."

Lydia nodded, taking a few deep breaths. Scott was right. She had to stay calm and composed.

There was a click of heels coming down the hall, and Lydia looked past Scott to see her mother. "Mom?"

"The principal called me down here," she explained. "Is everything okay?"

Lydia nodded, her hand resting on her stomach as she looked at her mother. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

Natalie caught on, nodding as her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Come on," Lydia said. "He's waiting."

They made their way into the office, and Lydia saw Stiles sitting in one of the chairs as Coach Finstock stood off to the side.

"Have a seat," the principal said, gesturing to the empty seat. Lydia sat down next to Stiles, but he didn't look at her. He was staring at his hands as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Do you know what this is about, Miss Martin?" the principal asked.

She thought about playing dumb, but knew that it probably wouldn't be the best option. "I do."

"I only ask this because of protocol," he said. "But are your parents aware of the situation?"

"They are," she nodded, forcing herself to stare at him. She would not make herself small. She was going to be a mother, and there was no shame in that.

He nodded, shuffling some papers around. "This is another protocol question, but the father is Mr. Stilinski, correct?"

"Who else would it be?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I just have to ask," he said. "We'll need you to fill out some paperwork for medical release, and we need to talk about the rest of the school year."

"What about it?" she asked. "The baby's not due until after graduation, so I'll still be able to do all of the normal senior things, and I'll be able to walk the stage."

The principal nodded, and Lydia thought that she saw a small smile on his face before he composed himself. "I'm glad to hear that, Lydia. I don't want you to miss school because of this. Are you planning on keeping it?"

Lydia nodded. "We are."

"Then you must know how much more important your education is now," he said. "I'm sorry that this is unplanned, and it's going to be hard, but the only thing that I can help with is making sure you're exempt from very much physical activity."

"I only have the one class," Lydia told him. "So I should be okay."

"Right," he nodded. There was a few seconds of silence, as if he was debating on whether to say something. "My niece got pregnant her senior year, and my sister wasn't very supportive of her keeping it, but she did it anyway. I've supported her the whole way, and I'm going to support any of my students however I can."

Lydia's heart warmed at his words, and she looked to Stiles to see him staring at the principal in shock. She was sure that his anxiety helped him think up the worst situation possible, because she had been half expecting it herself. She turned back towards the principal and gave him a sincere smile. "Thank you so much, sir. I really appreciate that."

"As do I," Natalie said, standing behind her daughter.

"Of course," he said. "But I'm not sure if we can really keep it from the general population of the school any longer if that's what you were wishing."

"Why is that?" her mother asked. Lydia noticed Stiles' knee starting to bounce. She reached over to him and squeezed his knee, and he gave her a small smile.

"This has to do with why Scott was here, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," the principal said before Stiles could respond. "There was an…altercation that was brought to my attention this morning, and it had to do with another classmate talking about what he knew. He heard from a friend that you were pregnant. Some words were overheard and exchanged, and Mr. McCall punched him."

"Punched him?" Lydia asked. That was so unlike Scott. "What the hell did the other guy say?"

"It doesn't matter," Stiles cut in.

"Yes, it does," she argued. "If it was bad enough that Scott punched him? _Scott?_ "

"No, it doesn't," he said. "Can we just get whatever paperwork we need so I can get to class?"

The principal cleared his throat, nodding as he shuffled a few more papers. "Of course. The paperwork is with the secretary if you would like to start filling it out."

After looking at Stiles for a moment, Lydia nodded, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Thank you."

"No problem, Miss Martin," he told her. "If I can help with anything else, let me know."

"I will," she said, giving him a nod before her and Stiles left the office. Right now she would focus on this paperwork, but she was going to find out exactly what happened between Scott and whoever he punched.

''''''''''

Braeden sighed, slamming the laptop shut in disgust. It had been three weeks. _Three weeks._ And they still couldn't find a lead on the bank account. She still had her suspicions, but she couldn't do anything if she had nothing to back it up.

She looked around at the empty loft, debating on whether to make a phone call or not. This would be the perfect time if she was being honest. Derek was out on errands, and no one else was there to pop in. As much as she trusted Derek, she didn't want him going on some wild goose chase off of a hunch. She knew what happened to werewolves when one of their pack was expecting, and the fact that whoever hired the mercenary let her go after the expecting pack member had messed with everyone. Derek would want justice and pain to the person that hired her simply for the fact that they wanted to kill Scott, but taking the pregnant girl? Now he wanted blood.

Yeah, she wasn't going to tell him until she had definite proof.

She pulled out her phone, dialing a number that she had only used once or twice to check up on business. She waited as it rang, inspecting her nails.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end greeted.

"Hey," she said. "It's Braeden. Are you alone?"

"Yeah," the voice said. "What's up?"

"I have a question that really only you can answer," she told him. "I probably should have called sooner, but I wanted to see if I could get a good lead before involving you."

"Okay," he said hesitantly. "What happened?"

She stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out where to start. She decided to be blunt. "Someone's after Scott."

"Seriously?" he asked. "Can't the kid ever get a break? What happened?"

"A mercenary was hired to kill him, and took Lydia as bait to get him to walk willingly to his own death," she explained. "Everyone's okay, but we still don't know who hired her."

"Where do I come in on this?" he asked.

"I have a hunch," she told him. "The only person that I know of who would want him dead without doing it themselves is the person that you have spent the most time with lately. I didn't want to say anything to the Pack because they're out for blood for the mercenary kidnapping Lydia. You know, the whole pregnant pack member thing –"

"Lydia's pregnant?" he asked loudly, causing Braeden to wince as the noise assaulted her ear.

"Yeah, long story," she said. "Anyway, I wanted to make sure that there was even a chance that it could be them before I tell a vengeful, extremely protective pack, you know?"

She heard him take a few deep breaths before he answered. "Yeah, I get it. I haven't noticed anything off, but I'll keep an eye out, okay?"

"Thanks," she said.

"Now what is this about Lydia being pregnant?" he asked.

She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Is that what's really important right now?"

"Considering she was my daughter's best friend and I care about her, yes," he countered.

She sighed, shifting in her chair to be more comfortable. This conversation might take a while.

* * *

 **I love to know what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay, first of all: I am so sorry! This week has been crazy, but I'm here now! Enjoy!**

* * *

Lydia followed Isaac, determination clear on her features. "Are you sure you don't know?"

"Lydia," he sighed exasperatedly, pausing to turn to her. "I wasn't there, and they haven't told me. What else do you want?"

"I wanna know what was said about me!" she said as he stopped at his locker. "I have the right to know that, don't I?"

"Of course," he nodded. "But I can't tell you. You'll have to get it out of Scott and Stiles."

"Ask them what?"

Lydia turned around to see Liam standing there, looking at them curiously.

"Maybe you can help me," she said, crossing her arms. "You were at track practice this morning, right?"

"Yeah, I'm on the team," he said with a shrug. "Why?"

"I would like to know why Scott punched someone, and what the guy he punched said about me," she told him. "Can you tell me?"

Liam's eyes widened as realization hit him. "I can't, actually. I, uh, I have to get to class."

He went to move past her, but she sidestepped and blocked him. When he tried to go the other way, she blocked him again, raising her eyebrow sternly. "You can take thirty seconds. Talk."

"Please, Lydia," he begged. "I can't talk right now. I'm going to be late for class, and I already have two weeks of detention."

"Two weeks?" she asked, the wheels in her mind spinning. "Scott has two weeks of detention."

"Funny," he said, forcing a laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him, and his face sobered and turned into one of pleading. "Please let me get to class."

With a sigh, she stepped out of his way. "You're telling me after class, got it?"

He nodded. "Okay, but only because you scare me."

He hurried down the hall towards class, and Lydia sighed, leaning against the locker.

"I'm going to find out," she told Isaac, who had shut his locker while she had been talking to Liam.

He nodded, and knowing smirk on his face. "I don't doubt it."

Stiles made his way down the hall towards them, confusion on his face.

"What did you say to Liam?" he asked when he got to them.

"Nothing, really," she answered as he took her hand. "I just asked him if he knew anything about what happened in the locker room.

Stiles sighed, and she knew that he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He let go of her hand to run a hand through his hair, seeing as his other arm was still in a sling. "Does it really matter? It was just a classic case of 'Talk Shit, Get Hit', okay?"

"I have a right to know what shit he said, don't I?" she asked.

"I don't get why you want to know so bad," he countered. "I don't even know everything he said. I just know what he said after Liam pushed him up against the locker."

"So Liam _was_ involved?" she asked, straightening up. She couldn't help that her heart warmed a little at that confirmation. She honestly had never thought he considered her much of a friend, but this had been the second time that she knew of that he had done something specifically for or because of her. But she hated the fact that this time it had gotten him in trouble. "Was it really that bad?"

The bell rang, and Stiles sighed again. "Look, I have to go. I promise, if you really want to know, then you need to talk to Scott. He heard the whole thing. I just heard the tail-end of it."

"Well, what was the tail-end of it?" she asked.

"I'll tell you later," he promised. "But right now, I have to get to class."

"Fine," she sighed. "But you will tell me."

"I will," he said. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she told him.

He left her standing there, walking to class with Isaac. She watched them go, irritation growing. She had a right to know what was said about her, no matter how bad it was.

''''''''''

Derek walked into the loft, groceries in tow as Braeden hung up the phone.

"Hey," she said, hopping up from the couch to grab a bag from him.

"Hey," he replied. "Who were you talking to?"

"Uh…Chris," she said hesitantly. "Just catching up, you know?"

Derek looked at her, catching the small change in her heartrate. She was brilliant at controlling it, but he had learned the minute changes when she wasn't telling the truth. He just hadn't told her yet.

"You've been doggedly pursuing this account number for three weeks, and you call Chris just to catch up?" he asked, setting his bag on the counter. He started pulling groceries out of it, glancing at her with a raised brow. She just shrugged.

"We haven't heard from him in a while," she said. No lie there. "What's so wrong about that?"

Derek sighed, turning to her and leaning back into the counter. "What aren't you telling me?"

She sighed herself, placing her hands on her hips. "I needed his opinion on something, okay? I've been stuck for three weeks, Derek. I have a theory, and I thought that I should run it by somebody."

"So run it by me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. She had told him every inkling she had while they were off on their business, but once they get back, she's building theories without a word?

"I need to run it by someone who didn't want to rip someone's throat out for bringing harm to the Pack," she clarified, taking a step towards him. "I know how protective you are of everyone, and how intensified that is for Lydia right now. I didn't want you to go in making threats and taking names before I knew for sure, okay?"

"And now that you've run it by somebody?" he asked, still a little bitter about the fact that she didn't tell him, even though he understood. He put his arms around her waist, tilting his head as he looked down at her.

"It's still not confirmed," she told him, picking at his shirt. "But he's going to see what he can find out."

He looked at her as the realization hit him. "You think it was the Calaveras?"

She shrugged. "They're the only people I know of that wouldn't want to kill Scott themselves."

He nodded slowly, contemplating the possibility. "I thought that they had made a deal with Chris."

"They did," she confirmed. "But it doesn't mean they can't hire out if they were determined enough."

"True," Derek said, nodding again. It made sense. No matter what deal they made with Chris, they were still hunters, and they still followed the original code. _We hunt those who hunt us._ Araya didn't care that Scott would never hurt anyone, she just cared that he was a werewolf. She had been looking for a reason to end him since she met him.

He could feel his anger grow as he thought, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. Braeden was right. He did want to go end them right then and there. But he couldn't, not without proof.

"So what are we gonna do to prove it?" he finally asked, his voice tense.

"That's where Chris comes in," she told him.

''''''''''

Lydia pulled out her lipstick, reapplying it before leaving the bathroom to go pick up lunch for her and her mother.

A freshman girl came out of one of the stalls, and Lydia smiled at her in greeting. The freshman nodded, washing her hands. The girl kept shooting Lydia furtive glances, like she was trying to look without being obvious and failing miserably.

Had Lydia been in a better mood, a few seconds of this probably wouldn't have bothered her. But she wasn't in that good of a mood, and frankly it was annoying.

"Can I help you?" Lydia asked, looking at the freshman as she put the cap back on her lipstick.

The girl looked at her with wide eyes, shaking her head vehemently. "N-no. I just…"

"Just what?" she asked, raising a brow at the girl.

"It's just…" the freshman took a deep breath, gaining some courage as she did so. "You're Lydia Martin, right?"

"Yes," Lydia answered. "Why?"

"I just, I heard something about you," she said. "And I know not to take rumors to heart, I do, but it's a pretty bad rumor, and I just didn't know if you knew about it or not, or if it's even partly true, and I guess I wanted to make sure that you were okay, because you always seem nice, but I didn't know what to say –"

"What rumor?" she asked, her voice softening. The girl had only wanted to help but had been too intimidated. Lydia couldn't be mad at her for that.

The younger girl bit her lip, obviously nervous. "That you were pregnant. But like I said, I know not to take rumors to heart, but I've heard people say some pretty awful things just today –"

"Hey," Lydia said, stopping the girl's rambling. She hadn't been ready to address anything yet, but this girl just seemed so worried that Lydia couldn't help herself. "It's, uh…It's not a rumor. I'm pregnant, and my boyfriend and I are keeping it."

"Really?" she asked. "I just, it was kind of hard to believe for me. You're just the last person that I would think – not that I know you well or anything, but – I should stop talking."

Lydia couldn't help but smile at the girl. "You know that no form of contraception is one-hundred percent effective. I'm just an example of that, I guess."

The girl nodded. "Yeah. But you should know that people are saying some _really_ bad things about you, even the girls. So just…don't listen to them, okay? Because I've spent less than five minutes with you and know that they're not true. Well, except for the pregnant part."

"Thank you," Lydia told her, her heart warming. "And thank you for warning me."

"You're welcome," the freshman said. "I should get back to class."

Lydia nodded as the girl left, looking in the mirror as she rested a hand on her stomach.

"We're going to have to deal with a lot of crap for the next few months," she said, taking a deep breath. This was the first time she had actually talked to the person growing inside of her. It was weird. "But guess what? I've been through worse, so I know how to deal with it."

She took another moment to check her appearance before leaving the bathroom as the bell rang.

''''''

 _"Did you hear that Lydia Martin's preggo?"_

 _"Seriously? Since when?"_

 _"I don't know. Carrie told me."_

 _"I can't say I'm that surprised. I knew that it was going to happen sooner to later."_

Malia clenched her jaw, putting down her pencil to save it. She had already broken one this morning because of Isaac. She looked across the classroom, making eye contact with him, and he looked just as pissed as she felt. She was used to these girls whispering in class, but once they started talking about Lydia, she couldn't help but be pissed. She didn't know if was Pack of friend, but she wanted to rip their tongues out. Maybe it was a combination of both. But she knew that's not what Scott would do. She wasn't even supposed to be able to hear them, anyway.

After taking a deep breath, she picked up her pencil and continued taking notes. She may not be a big fan of history, but she still wanted to get a good grade in it. Maybe it could make up for barely passing math.

The bell rang, and everyone shot up, determined to get out of there.

"Don't forget the quiz tomorrow," Mr. Yukimura called out. "Make sure and study!"

Malia sighed, glad that she didn't have to listen to the girls anymore. She put her notebook in her bag, standing up to make her way to lunch.

"Is everything okay, Malia?" Mr. Yukimura asked, looking at her with concern as she walked by the desk.

"Fine," she told him. "Why?"

"You seemed upset towards the end of class," he said.

"Just the girls behind me talking," she assured him. "It's kind of annoying."

He nodded. "Okay. Study for the test, okay?"

"Will do!" she told him, leaving the classroom and moving down the hall.

Isaac found his way next to her, walking with her to lunch. "Do you wanna study together for the quiz tomorrow?"

"Why would I want to study with you?" she asked, confused. The only times they had talked to each other was sarcastic one-liners and Malia trying to control her urge to punch him.

"Because we're the only two in that class," he said. "And it always helps to have someone to study with. I mean, I helped you with that math, didn't I?"

"How good are you at history?" she asked.

"Not as good as I am at math, but still pretty decent," he admitted.

She stayed silent for a moment, appraising him. Finally, she gave him a smirk. "I'll think about it."

"I'll take it," he said, giving her a smirk of his own.

''''''''''

"What exactly did he say?" Stiles asked his best friend. "Because Lydia's determined to find out, and we all know that means she will."

Scott sighed, looking down at his lunch. "I don't think she really does want to know."

"Apparently she does," Stiles said. "And now that he knows that she's pregnant, it's going to spread like wildfire, and who knows how he embellished it is now that he's pissed off at us."

"I know!" Scott exclaimed. "I've already heard some."

"Like what?" Stiles asked, his panic rising a little. "What have you heard?"

"Basically what Johnson was saying this morning," Scott admitted, picking at his plate.

"Which is?"

Scott looked at him across the table, apprehension clear on his face. Was it really that bad?

"Scott, what the hell did he say?" Stiles asked. "You're kind of freaking me out right now."

With a sigh, Scott put down his fork. Before he could speak, Lydia came and sat down next to Stiles at the table. "What's up?"

"I thought that you were having lunch with your mom?" Stiles asked.

"She had a last minute meeting," Lydia explained. "So I thought that I'd come eat with you guys."

Stiles nodded, turning back to Scott with a pointed look.

"Are you gonna tell me what that douche said this morning?" she asked, taking a bite of her salad. Scott groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"Do I have to?" he asked.

"Yes," she said simply. "Or I can always get it out of Liam. I apparently scare him."

"Fine," Scott said. He was silent for a moment before he started. "For one, he called you a slut, in more ways than one."

"That's it?" she asked. "You do realize that I've been called a slut before, right? It doesn't really bother me."

"He was pretty vulgar about it," Scott insisted. "Even to Stiles' face."

"What exactly did he say?" she asked, turning to Stiles.

He sighed, looking down at his hands. "He, uh, he told me that there was a reason that everyone know that you're a good fuck. That's when Scott punched him."

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise, but she simply nodded and turned back to Scott. "Is that all he said? Creative ways to say that I'm a slut?"

"He might've suggested that you probably didn't know who the father was…" Scott trailed off, obviously uncomfortable.

Stiles sat there with his jaw dropped, and he didn't dare look at his girlfriend as his anger rose.

"What?" Lydia asked. "How the fuck could he think that?"

"I don't know," Scott shrugged. "I just heard it."

"Calling me a slut is one thing," she continued. "But a cheater? Why would he even think –"

She cut herself off, taking a deep breath as she closed her eyes. Pushing his anger aside for the moment, Stiles took her hand in hers, his thumb drawing calming circles on the back of her hand. She didn't open her eyes, but she squeezed his hand in appreciation.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," Scott admitted. "I knew that it would upset you, and you don't need that right now."

"Why?" she asked, her eyes finally flying open as anger flashed in them. "Because I'm hormonal? You think I'm going to turn into some blubbering mess because I'm pregnant? I know you feel like you have to protect me because of some instinct, but I am a big girl, Scott. I think I can handle a few harsh words."

"That's not it at all!" Scott said. "I just don't think that you should have to worry about what some random jerk says."

"Well, apparently he's not the only one who's saying things," Lydia snapped, her voice thick and her eyes shining with unshed tears. She took another deep breath to calm herself, and Stiles knew that she was trying not to cry. Out of anger or hurt, he wasn't sure. "According to a sweet freshman girl I encountered in the bathroom, people have been saying awful things about me all morning. So awful that a random girl that I'd never even met was worried about how I was handling it all."

Stiles clenched his jaw, his anger coming back full force. How could people be so fucking ridiculous?

"What's wrong?"

Malia came and sat by Lydia, placing a hand on her shoulder as Isaac sat by Scott. "I smelled that you were upset from the across the cafeteria. What happened?"

"Apparently everyone thinks that I'm a cheating slut!" Lydia told her, her voice breaking. She stood up quickly, ripping her hand out of Stiles'. "I'll be right back."

She walked briskly out of the cafeteria, and Stiles looked at Scott, who nodded at him to go after her.

''''''''''

Lydia quickened her pace down the hall, thankful that nobody was around. She didn't know why those comments bothered her so much, but she knew a lot of her reaction had to do with hormones. She took another deep breath to keep the tears at bay, picking up her pace to the door. She didn't have any more classes, so she didn't have any reason to stay there.

"Lydia, wait!"

Lydia ignored Stiles' voice, opening the door and making her way down the steps. By the time she got to the curb, she heard the door open, and the tell-tale shuffling that was Stiles trying not to fall down the stairs as he ran. She paused, taking yet another deep breath and turning to him.

"What?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Where are you going?" he asked, catching up to her.

"Home," she told him. "I don't have any more classes today, so I don't know why I'm staying here."

"So you're just going to let them win?" he asked. "None of what they said is true, so why does it matter?"

"I know it's not true, Stiles!" She exclaimed, unable to stop the tears from falling. "But it does matter! I know you might not get it, but what everyone else thinks has mattered to me for so long that I can't just shake it off! It used to matter more than anything what they thought! And I know it's dumb, and ridiculous, but I can't just shove that all away!"

He stepped closer to her, gently wiping away her tears as he looked at her. "I get it, I do. I watched you care, and I saw it hurt you. I've also seen you start to get past that, and it make you stronger. But what I'm trying to say is that you can just walk out of here, and let them win, or you can go in there, show them that it doesn't affect you and shut them up."

"But it does affect me," she admitted, hating how small her voice sounded.

"Doesn't mean they have to know that," he said, giving her a small smile. "I'm not saying keep everything in and then cry alone in your car like you used to, but for your one class, act like you don't give two shits about them, and then you can vent and do whatever you need to with me, or your mom, or Malia and Kira if you need girl time."

Lydia saw his point, she did. She just wasn't sure if she would be able to do it with the hormones raging inside of her.

"I can try," she finally told him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "But I can't promise perfection."

"I don't expect it," he told her, pulling her closer. "If anyone does make you cry, I'll send one of the wolves after them."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Please do."

He leaned down to kiss her, and her lips met his eagerly. When she pulled out of the kiss, she rested her head on his chest.

"You should probably go finish lunch," she said after a few moments.

She felt him shrug his good shoulder. "It wasn't very edible, anyway."

She rolled her eyes, pulling out of his embrace and taking his hand. "You need to keep your energy up for PT."

"Don't remind me," he groaned as she led him back to the door.

"If you do well, than you can be out of the sling in a few days," she reminded him. "And I want you out of that sling."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, putting his good arm around her and kissing her temple.

They walked back into school, Lydia taking deep breaths to build herself up. She knew that the next few months wouldn't be easy, but she felt better having Stiles by her side.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	15. Chapter 15

**One of these days, I'll actually post it on a Tuesday lol. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chris sat in the chair across from Araya, staring her down.

"You can start speaking whenever you would like, Christopher," she said. "After all, you are the one who called this meeting."

Christ glanced back at the hunter standing by the door, who was standing guard. "I'd rather have a little more privacy."

Araya studied him for moment before nodding to the hunter behind him. He heard the door open and close, and she looked back at him. "What do you need such privacy for?"

He leaned forward in his chair, making sure to watch her reaction. "I wanted to make sure that you've been keeping up your end of our deal."

Confusion found itself in her eyes, but she had no other reaction to his statement.

"And why would you need to make sure of that?" she asked, her tone hardening slightly.

He watched her closely, trying to decide whether or not to tell her. It had been a couple of weeks since Braeden had called him, and he had watched everyone as closely as he could since. There had been nothing out of the ordinary, whether it be phone calls, or new faces, or even a secret look. It had been all business. But he had expected nothing less.

He had also known that the Pack was getting impatient, which is why he had decided to confront her about it.

"Christopher," she said after a moment of silence. "Is there something that I need to know?"

"Someone tried to kill Scott," he told her, gauging her body language. "They took Lydia as bait, and tried to kill him."

"Took Lydia?" she asked, and Chris could've sworn there was some concern in her voice. "I'm guessing they didn't succeed?"

"No, they didn't," he said, leaning back slightly. "But everyone's still upset, considering whoever hired the mercenary is still out there."

"And you think that I might have something to do with it?" Araya asked, raising an eyebrow. She seemed irritated.

"It might have crossed my mind," he admitted. "After all, the only reason you're not going after him is because I'm helping you."

"That is true," she nodded, bridging her fingers together. "But you have held up your end of our deal well, and I have no reason to break mine. Even if I did hire somebody, I would not have let them take Lydia."

''Why not?" he asked, confused. Lydia may not be a wolf, but she still had supernatural abilities.

"Because I do not consider her a predator," Araya explained. "In fact, I am quite fascinated with her."

"Are you saying you have a soft spot for her?" Chris inquired.

She chuckled, giving him a smirk. "I would not go that far. But I do not wish her death."

Chris watched her for a moment, and decided that she wasn't lying. "Then you might want to help us find who might if it comes to that. The Pack is already wanting blood for the mercenary putting Lydia in danger like that."

"Because she's one of the vulnerable ones?" Araya asked. "I do know they are very protective of their weaker members, as did the mercenary, apparently."

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "Not to mention the fact that she's pregnant."

He watched as surprise overtook her face for a split second before she composed herself again. He smirked, sitting back in the chair. "What? You haven't been keeping an eye on them at all?"

"That was part of the deal, wasn't it?" she said stiffly. "That I let them live their lives without my threat?"

"You're right," he nodded. That was why he had told her, to test her.

"But apparently I'm not the only person that they need to be worried about," she told him pointedly.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You're not."

''''''''''

Lydia entered the station, balancing the bags of food and drinks that she had. She smiled at the officer manning the front desk, who gave her a nod in return, letting her through. She had been there enough in the past couple of weeks that it had become routine.

"Here, let me help you."

Jordan took the drink holder from her before she could respond, giving her a smile.

"I wasn't having any issues," she told him, raising a brow at him. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I know that," he said as they made their way to the Sheriff's office. "But I have strict orders from Stiles."

Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles had been insistent that she not carry too much, whether it be weight or quantity. Now that she had a definite bump growing, he had been concerned about her balance. Which was ridiculous, considering the bump was so small. He had even tried to get her to stop wearing heels, but she shut that down quickly. Their compromise had been that she didn't carry too much and affect her balance. They had different ideas of what 'too much' was.

She placed her free hand on the swell of her stomach, rubbing it gently. "I appreciate the concern, Jordan, but I don't think a couple of drinks are going to cause any harm."

They walked into the Sheriff's office, John's back to them.

"Hey, Sheriff," Lydia said, placing the food on the desk. Jordan placed the drinks beside it. "Where's Stiles?"

"Putting up some files," he told her. "When he's finished, we were gonna review some stuff on the mercenary case."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm assuming Jordan is joining us?"

"Yeah," Jordan said. "Considering I'm the only deputy who knows all the details."

"Good thing I got you food, then," she said, handing him one of the drinks.

He looked surprised, but took the drink. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

Lydia shrugged. "I don't mind."

"I smell food."

Stiles came up beside Lydia, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek.

"Careful with your arm," she told him. "Just because it's out of the sling doesn't mean that it's finished healing."

"I just spent an hour shooting a gun with this arm, I think I can hold my girlfriend with it," he said, picking up one of the drinks. "I haven't been able to for weeks, and I'm going to take advantage of it."

"Okay, lovebirds," John teased. "Let's get to this."

They all made themselves comfortable, pulling out the food and eating.

"How was work today?" Lydia asked Stiles, taking a drink of her soda.

"Boring," he admitted. "But I get to spend the day with my dad, so it's not too bad."

A position had come up open at the station a few days ago, and John had offered it to Stiles. It was mainly filing and things of that nature, but it paid decently, so Stiles had taken it.

"I warned that it would be," John told him between bites.

"How about shooting practice?" she asked. He would always get some practice in while he was there. While she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of guns, she knew that it was important that he know how to use one – at least to him – so she supported him.

"Really good," Stiles told her. "I shot a prefect headshot today."

"Impressive," she nodded.

Braeden walked in, a file in her hands.

"Hey," Lydia said. "If I had known that you were coming, I would've gotten you something."

"I ate with Derek," she told her, sitting at the couch by the door. "You guys got anything new on this?"

"No new evidence," Jordan told her.

"I have a theory," Stiles offered.

"You haven't told me about it," John said, looking surprised.

"What are you thinking?" Lydia asked.

"Have we heard anything about the Calaveras?" he suggested.

"Way ahead of you, actually," Braeden cut in, standing up and walking towards the desk. "I haven't said anything, because I didn't want anyone jumping to conclusions, but according to Chris, when he called me about twenty minutes ago, we don't have to worry about the Calaveras."

"Wait," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes at her. "You've had the same theory long enough to check it out and dismiss it, and you didn't tell anyone?"

"I told Derek," she admitted. "But like I said, I didn't want people jumping to conclusions."

"How can we be sure that they're telling Chris the truth?" Lydia asked. "I mean, they would want him to think that they're holding up their part of the deal, wouldn't they?"

"Chris knew that she wasn't lying," she shrugged. "She also said that she wouldn't hire a mercenary with Anaheim's M.O., and she definitely would want her to take Lydia."

"Really?" Stiles asked. "This bitch threatened to electrocute Lydia if Scott didn't do what she wanted, but she wouldn't want anyone to take her? That's the story she's going with?"

"Electrocute?" the Sheriff asked. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"It's a long story," Lydia told him. "But Araya knew that Scott wouldn't let that happen. She was completely fascinated with me being a Banshee when we were there. She asked me all kinds of questions that I didn't have the answers to. I don't think she wanted to hurt me. At least, not until she figured out everything about me and my abilities."

Stiles pressed his lips together, lost in thought. "And Chris is sure she wasn't lying?"

"That's what he told me," Braeden confirmed. "So I guess we're back to square one."

'''''''''

"Can we please take a break?"

"We just had one ten minutes ago."

Malia sighed, dropping her head onto the table. "It's only been ten minutes?"

"Come on," Isaac said. "You've been doing really well."

"I know," she said. "It's just boring."

"I'm not gonna argue with you there."

They had been studying for history together the past couple of weeks. At first Isaac had suggested it simply because he needed someone to study with and she was the only one in the class that he was willing to partner with. The main reason was because she was part of the Pack, but now, he could honestly say that he was enjoying himself.

"How's it going?" Scott asked, coming into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

Malia looked at him, her eyebrow raised. "Do you have to ask?"

Her phone went off, and she sighed when she looked down. "My dad wants me home. See you tomorrow?"

"Always," Isaac said as she threw her stuff in her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She gave him a quick smile, waving to Scott as she headed to the back door.

"See ya!" she called out as she closed the door.

"Bye," Scott said as the door closed.

Isaac couldn't help the slight disappointment he felt as he heard the click of the door. It wasn't because she was leaving, it wasn't. It was because now he had to study by himself. Yeah, that was it.

He realized that he had been staring at the door for too long when Scott cleared his throat. He looked at his Alpha, who was giving him a questioning look.

"You okay?" he asked, crossing the room and sitting across from Isaac.

"Yeah," Isaac nodded. "Just spaced for a minute there, I guess."

"I see you two are getting along," Scott said, resting his water on the table. "I think you only made, what, two snarky comments tonight?"

Rolling his eyes, Isaac closed his textbook and looked at Scott. "What's your point?"

"Nothing," Scott said. "I'm just glad you guys are getting along."

Isaac didn't have to listen to his heartbeat to know that he was lying. "Bullshit."

Scott sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Do you really want me to say it?"

"I do like straightforwardness," he quipped.

"Do you like Malia?"

Isaac felt his stomach drop at the question, but he wasn't sure why. He didn't like Malia – well, he liked her, but not like that.

"No," he shook his head. "We're just Pack. Study-buddies. Maybe on the road to friends? I don't know. But no, I don't like her."

"Okay," Scott said, putting his hands up defensively. "If you say so."

"I do," Isaac told him, turning back to his notes.

"Well, I'm gonna go do some homework of my own," Scott said as he stood up from the table. He made his way to the doorway before turning around and looking back. "Hey, Isaac?"

"What?" he asked, looking at his Alpha.

Scott's face was hesitant. "You know, we haven't really talked…about anything, really. But, uh, you can like someone. It's okay."

Isaac felt his throat tighten as his eyes started to burn. "Yeah, I know."

"Do you?" Scott asked. "I mean, even if it's not Malia. If you find somebody, it's okay."

Looking down at his hands, Isaac nodded. "I know, Scott. I do." He shot Scott a smile, knowing immediately that it wasn't convincing. Scott didn't say anything, though. He just nodded and made his way upstairs.

Isaac knew in theory that it was okay. He knew that she would be okay with him moving on – hell, she would _want_ him to move on – but putting what he knew into practice was completely different.

In reality, he wasn't sure if he liked Malia. Yes, she was pretty, and feisty, and when she smiled he was pretty sure his heart skipped a beat –

But as soon as his heart would skip a beat, he felt guilt. He knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. He had loved Allison – still did – and moving on felt like the first step in forgetting her.

He didn't want to forget her.

''''''''''

"Lydia."

She groaned, burrowing deeper into her blankets as her mom opened the door.

"Lydia, sweetie," Natalie said, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing Lydia's arm. "Get up."

"It's Saturday," Lydia groaned, forcing herself to open her eyes to look at her mother. It wasn't too bright in her room, and by the way the sunlight came through her window, she knew that it wasn't too long after sunrise. Why was her mother getting her up so early?

"Well," Natalie said. "I was thinking that maybe we could do some shopping."

"I'm listening," she said, pushing down her blanket.

Natalie smirked. "I thought you would. I know you've bought a few things to wear, but you're going to have to get actual maternity clothes soon, so I thought that maybe we could start looking. Get a few basic pieces that you can wear for a while at least. Maybe get a couple of things for the baby?"

"We don't even know the sex yet," Lydia told her. "We won't know that until my next appointment, at the earliest."

"Okay," Natalie nodded. "But we can still get an idea on how you want to design the nursery, and pick colors later."

"True," Lydia said, sitting up and getting out on the opposite side. "I'll get ready."

"Come get breakfast first," Natalie said. "It's ready, and I made pancakes."

Lydia couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. "Pancakes?"

"Yes," she chuckled. "Your grandma's recipe. I even put chocolate chips in them."

"Let me brush my hair, at least," Lydia told her.

"All right," Natalie said. She left the room, and Lydia grabbed her comb and worked out the tangles. Once she was done and had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she rested her hand on the swell of her stomach.

"Do you want some pancakes?" she asked, rubbing her belly casually as she made her way downstairs. She knew that the baby wouldn't be able to hear for another few weeks, but she couldn't help herself talking to the little person growing inside of her. "Grandma makes some really good pancakes. Even if they don't always look pretty."

"I heard that!" Natalie exclaimed as Lydia stepped into the kitchen. Lydia just gave her an innocent smile as she sat at the island.

"Did you hear the part where I said that they were really good?" she asked.

Her mom rolled her eyes as she set a plate of pancakes in front of her. "I did."

Lydia got up, grabbing the peanut butter from the cupboard. When she turned around, Natalie was giving her a confused look.

"Since when do you put peanut butter on your pancakes?" she asked, making a plate of her own.

"It's amazing," Lydia told her as she sat back down. "I've been putting peanut butter on a lot of things lately, but pancakes is definitely the best."

"Okay," Natalie nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

Lydia looked at her, a dollop of peanut butter sandwiched between the pancake and a knife. "Come on. If you like peanut butter, you'll like it."

"Excuse me if I don't take the advice of a pregnant woman," Natalie said, pouring syrup over her pancakes.

"Suit yourself," Lydia shrugged, finishing hers up and taking a bite. She moaned, putting the lid back on the peanut butter and grabbing the syrup. Natalie laughed, covering her food-filled mouth. "What?"

"Nothing," her mom said once she had swallowed. "I just remember reacting exactly like that with cherry snow-cones when I was pregnant with you."

"Really?" she asked. "Half of your pregnancy was in cold weather, and you wanted snow-cones?"

"I was pregnant," Natalie reminded her.

Lydia nodded. "Fair enough."

There was silence as they ate, and Lydia checked her phone. She had no good morning text from Stiles, but considering it was a little after seven am on a Saturday, she wasn't surprised. He had hung out with Scott last night, and they had most likely stayed up late playing video games.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of her phone as she checked Instagram.

"When are we going to talk about the reason you were kidnapped?"

Lydia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "This isn't the best time to talk about it."

"You've been saying that for weeks," Natalie said. "You said that you would tell me, and I still haven't gotten an explanation."

"That's because you always ask at the wrong times," Lydia told her, putting down her phone.

"When is a good time?" her mother asked. "Please, tell me, because I would love to know."

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. "But this isn't one. _None_ of the times you've asked have been good times." She took a deep breath, looking at her pancakes. "And I'm not really sure you won't think I'm crazy."

"Honey, why would I think you're crazy?" Natalie asked, confused.

"Because you thought Grandma was crazy," Lydia said simply. "You thought that she was so crazy that you sent her to a nuthouse."

Natalie was silent for a moment, and Lydia looked up to see her torn expression.

"What does your grandmother have to do with this?" she finally asked, her voice tight. "What does she have to do with you being taken?"

"More than you think." Lydia pushed away her plate, leaning on the island. "Grandma heard voices, right?"

Natalie nodded, swallowing heavily before answering. "Yes, she was schizophrenic."

"No, she wasn't," Lydia said, shaking her head. "She wasn't hearing voices made up in her mind." She paused, knowing her mom wouldn't believe her. "She was hearing the voices of the dead."

"Lydia –"

"It's true, Mom!" She said. "I know you don't believe me, but there is a whole other world out there that you don't know about, and I'm a part of it. So are my friends. I know that Grandma heard the voices of the dead, because I hear them, too."

Lydia looked at her mother, who was staring at her with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"I know that it sounds crazy," she continued, determined to get it out now that she had started. "But it's true. I hear the voices of the dead, and there are a lot of times I know when someone's going to die. Or at least, I know when they're dead."

"Honey, there are times when I know someone's going –"

"This is different!" Lydia exclaimed, slamming her hand down. "This isn't when someone's in the hospital and it doesn't look good. This is when someone's having a completely normal day, and it all goes wrong. When we had all of those sacrificial murders, I knew when they died. I would scream when they died, and then I would go into a trance and find them. Once I learned to control it a little better, I was able to tell beforehand when someone was going to die." She took a deep breath, trying to control the tears that were starting to gather in her eyes. "I knew hours before it happened that Allison was going to die. I felt it when she was stabbed.

"The only difference between Grandma and me, is that I've had help to discover my powers. I'm a Banshee, and so was Grandma. And she died because no one understood that, and she was put in the care of some Angel of Death –"

"Angel of Death?" Natalie asked, her voice shaking. "Your grandmother committed suicide."

Lydia shook her head, shuddering at the memory of the last time she had been at Eichen. "An orderly named Brunski killed her, making it look like a suicide. He recorded the whole thing. He did it with a lot of patients, ones that he thought needed their suffering to end. But don't worry, he's dead now."

"Honey, how do you know this?" Natalie asked, tears escaping as she stood up and got closer to Lydia. "And why do you think that you have these abilities."

Lydia laughed. "I knew you would think that I was crazy."

"I don't!" her mom said, shaking her head fiercely. "I just…don't understand."

"Well, that's only the tip of the iceberg," Lydia told her, wiping at her eyes. "I'm not the only person in this town with supernatural abilities."

"Sweetheart," Natalie said hesitantly. "What are you talking about?"

Lydia looked her straight in the eye, her tone completely serious. "You don't happen to believe in werewolves, do you?"

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay, here's this week's chapter! I wanted to take a minute to thank everyone for all the lovely reviews you guys are giving me. It really does motivate me to write, so thank you, thank you, thank you! Enjoy!**

* * *

Melissa poured her coffee into a mug, appreciating the aroma. It was early on a Saturday morning, and she was the only one up.

She actually enjoyed this time to herself. There was a calmness that wasn't there on regular mornings. Especially on the mornings that she didn't have to get ready for work.

She stirred the cream and sugar into her coffee, leaning on the counter when she was done and basking in the silence. As much as she loved her boys, it was always nice to have some peace and quiet to herself. She didn't get that nearly enough.

Not that she was completely letting her guard down, though. She knew that's what whoever was after Scott was waiting for, and she wasn't going to give it to them that easy. She may not have any abilities, but she would be damned if she let someone get to her son on her watch.

Moving to the couch in the living room, she pulled out her phone, checking the news. Nothing out of the usual, but she found a few fluff articles that she liked.

As she was laughing at a video of a kitten, there was a soft thud from upstairs. She paused for a moment, trying to determine if she should worry or not. It could've just been Stiles waking up and tripping. He'd done it before. But her instincts were telling her that something was wrong.

She got up and grabbed the baseball bat that was by the stairs, slowly making her way to Scott's room.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard a crash of something glass and a yell.

"Scott!" Stiles yelled from the other side of the door.

The door beside her opened, revealing a half transformed Isaac, his eyes glowing yellow as he looked at her. She nodded at him, and they rushed to the door, Isaac kicking it down.

Scott was wrestling with a man on the floor, and Melissa wasn't sure who was winning. Isaac growled from beside her, baring his fangs.

"Go call the Sheriff," he growled to her. "And get Stiles out of here."

She looked to the desk, where Stiles was watching the fight, basically sitting on the desk itself. She reached over and grabbed his arm as Isaac roared and pulled the man off of Scott.

"Let's go!" she yelled, pulling Stiles out of the room flailing.

"I can't just – "

"You're just gonna get hurt!" she told him, pulling down the hall quickly as the sounds of fighting got louder from Scott's room. "Think of Lydia! Think of the baby!"

He didn't fight her after she said that, pulling out his phone and calling his dad.

"Dad?" he said. "Dad, we need a patrol car down at Scott's house, stat, okay? 664. Yeah, okay."

He hung up, giving a nod to Melissa. "They're on their way."

Before Melissa could respond, a body flew out of the room and crashing into the wall across. Scott stepped towards the man, grabbing him by the shirt and pushing him up against the wall.

"Who hired you?" he growled, his eyes glowing red. Melissa wasn't used to seeing her son so angry.

The man's eyes were wide with fear, a cut on his temple leaving a trail of blood down his face. "I don't know, man. I just got the orders and the transfer info. I don't ask questions."

"Yeah?" Scott asked. "Well maybe you should."

He punched the man, knocking him out and letting him slump to the floor.

Melissa quickly made her way over to her son, who had shifted back to his normal self. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he nodded.

"Isaac?" she called out, worried that he wasn't out there yet.

"I'm okay," Isaac answered, appearing in the doorway. There was blood coming from a cut in his shirt, right above his abdomen.

"Sweetheart, no you're not," she said, making his way over to him and lifting up his shirt to examine the wound. It wasn't deep, but she didn't know if that was because of his healing or not. "There wasn't wolfs bane on the knife, was there?"

Isaac shook his head. "No. It's already almost healed. I'll be fine."

"Okay," she nodded. "Then you might wanna go change your shirt before the cops get here, okay? I don't know who they sent, or what they know."

"Okay," he said. He looked to Scott, who nodded, before going back to his room to change.

"He didn't cut you, did he?" she asked Scott, looking him over.

"Just a nick," Scott admitted, holding up his right arm where blood was already drying. Looking at it, most people would think that it wasn't his. "It's already healed."

"Well, he wasn't a very good assassin," Stiles said.

"Yeah, thank God," she said.

"What if that's why whoever's after you waited so long?" Stiles asked, looking at Scott.

"What do you mean?" he asked as sirens became audible in the distance.

"What if word got out of what happened to Anaheim?" Stiles elaborated. "How she got caught? Maybe the mercenaries aren't willing to risk it, you know? Atleast the good ones."

"That makes sense," Melissa said. "Maybe you should run it by Braeden? She would be the one to ask about that kind of stuff, right?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "I'll call her when we're done here."

A phone rang, and Stiles jumped, looking down at the phone in his hand.

"Hello?" he greeted. "Can it wait a little bit, we've kind of – wait, what?"

He was silent as he listened to whoever was on the other line. "Well, we can't leave right now, the cops are on their way." Another pause. "Someone just tried to kill Scott. Yes, I know. Meet us over here, okay? Love you."

He waited a second before hanging up the phone with an exasperated sigh. "That was Lydia. She's coming over."

"Is this really the best time?" Melissa asked. "Police are going to be here any minute."

"Well, apparently she talked to her mom this morning," he explained. "And she told her everything. Of course her mom doesn't exactly believe her blindly, so they're coming over here to talk to us."

"Great," Scott sighed. "Okay, we should probably get downstairs before they break down the door."

''''''''''

Lydia made her way up to the house with her mother in tow.

"Why is there a cop car here?" her mother asked.

"Because someone tried to kill Scott," Lydia told her simply.

"What?" she said, shocked. "How can you possibly say that so casually?"

Lydia shrugged as she stepped onto the porch. "You kind of get used to it."

Her mother just looked at her, and she stepped into the house, where the door was open. Everyone was gathered in the living room, and the officers were Parrish and the Sheriff.

"Is everyone okay?" Lydia asked, making her way into the living room.

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "We're okay."

"Another cruiser just took the suspect to the station," the Sheriff explained.

"What the hell happened?" she asked. "How did he even get in?"

"I don't know," Melissa told her. "But I know I'm going to be upgrading my alarm system."

Stiles came to stand next to Lydia, resting a hand on her lower back. "I'm just glad they decided to leave you alone this time."

"I'm not worried about me," she told him. "You guys were the ones who were attacked."

"I'm sorry," Natalie cut in, shaking her head in confusion. "Is this something that happens often?"

"Yes," Lydia told her. "It's part of being involved in the supernatural in this town."

Her mother just looked at her, and Lydia knew that she was still hesitant to believe it. She knew why. Her mother raised her on science and facts, not supernatural fairytales. Lydia still believed in science and facts, but now she knew that the supernatural existed. Her mom had to accept that as well.

"I know you don't believe me," Lydia said. "But it's true."

She looked to Scott, who nodded. "She's right, Miss Martin. That's why we didn't want to get the police involved when Lydia was taken. We didn't know who we were dealing with at the time."

"I still can't wrap my head around this," Natalie said. "I'm not saying I don't believe _you_ , but I'm having trouble being able to actually believe it in general. Does that make sense?"

"It does," John said. "I didn't believe Stiles at first when he told me."

"Do you believe this?" Isaac asked, holding out his hand with his claws out and his eyes glowing yellow.

'''''''''

"How are you okay with all of this?" Natalie asked as she stood at the kitchen counter. "Our kids are constantly in danger, and you just go about like nothing's happening?"

"Oh, we worry," Melissa told her, pouring coffee into a mug. "But we also realize that we can't stop them. My son's a True Alpha. He's been thrust into this responsibility of protector, and he's willing to fill those shoes and help people. And of course he has help with his Pack. Even though I worry, I can't help but be proud of all of them."

Natalie shook her head. "I guess I should be relieved that there's an explanation for everything that's happened. But I worry about her enough as it is, and now there's this supernatural element involved?"

"It's hard," The Sheriff admitted. "But we do it."

"How are they going to bring a baby into this?" she asked.

"The Hales did it for generations," Melissa told her as she handed Natalie the mug.

"Yeah, but look what ended up happening to them?" Natalie quipped.

"Look," John said. "I know you're worried, it's normal. Especially since you just found out. But these kids know what they're doing. Stiles and Lydia put everything into consideration when they made their decision, including everything they're involved in in this sense. They wouldn't have made the decision they did if they didn't think that everything would work out, okay?"

Natalie sighed, wrapping her hands around the mug in front of her. "I really hope they're right."

''''''''''

"What do you think?" Stiles asked Braeden. "Does that theory make any sense?"

"It makes a lot of sense," Braeden answered, leaning back against the table. "There are a lot of mercenaries who fear getting caught more than they fear getting killed."

The Pack had gone to the loft to get more information from Braeden. Stiles paced the space across from Braeden, keeping an eye on Lydia as she sat on the couch.

"Then that's a good thing, right?" Scott asked. "If they can't find anyone to hire, then they can't do anything."

"Or they come to do it themselves," Lydia offered. "Which could either be a good thing or a bad thing."

Stiles stopped pacing to look at her. "How could that possibly be a good thing?"

"Because if they're hiring someone to do it for them, there's the possibility that they wouldn't be able to do it themselves," she explained.

"Yeah," Stiles said. "Unless they're some master assassin who just doesn't want their name involved."

"Well we can't know either way until we trace the account, now can we?" Lydia asked, standing up and walking towards him. "I was trying to stay a little more on the positive, but I guess we can't do that."

"We have to be prepared for anything!" Stiles insisted. He knew that his anxiety was affecting his thinking, but he knew that he was right. They had to be prepared for the worst if they wanted to effectively protect Scott.

"So we just wait until they come, then?" Scott asked from behind them. Stiles didn't have to look at him to know that he was agitated. "What kind of plan is that?"

"The only one we've got," Braeden told him. "I'm still trying to find out whatever I can with what I've got, but it's not a lot to go on. I'm doing the best I can do."

"Well maybe our best isn't good enough!" Scott exclaimed, sitting on the couch as he put his head in his hands.

Before Stiles could do anything, Lydia made her way over to the young Alpha, sitting on the coffee table across from him. "Scott, look at me."

Slowly, he lifted his head to look at her as Stiles made his way over to them. His eyes were shining with unshed tears. Lydia took his hands in her own as she leaned towards him.

"We're going to find out who this is, Scott," she told him, determination clear in her eyes. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. None of us are."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Scott told her, looking at their hands. "I'm worried about you guys. I don't want any of you getting hurt because of me anymore than you guys already have."

"How many times have you gotten hurt because of me?" Stiles asked. "Severely. All I did was get a damaged rotator cuff."

"That's not the point!" Scott insisted. "I want to protect you guys. Especially you." He looked at Lydia, squeezing her hands. "I promised you that I would protect you and the baby, and I've already failed once. I'm can't fail you again."

"Guess what?" she said. "I can take care of myself, and my child. And even if I need help, you're not alone. We have an entire pack behind us. I think we'll be okay."

"Can we just make sure you're not left alone?" Scott asked. "It'll make me feel better."

"I'm not the target," she told him. "You're the one who shouldn't be alone."

"How about neither of you are never alone?" Stiles suggested. "That would make _me_ feel better."

"I think that we can arrange that," Scott nodded, and Stiles relaxed. If they could be protected, he could let himself worry significantly less.

"I need to get down to the station so I can see what I can get out of this guy," Braeden interrupted. "You guys wanna wait for Derek to get back? He didn't say how long he would be gone."

"No," Scott told her, taking a deep breath. "That's okay. I should probably be getting home anyway."

"All right," Braeden nodded. "I'll let you know what I find out, okay?"

"Thanks, Braeden," Scott said as they all stood up and headed to the door. "I really appreciate everything you're doing."

"It's not that big a deal," she told him. "It's not like I have any cases right now. But I was thinking of getting Argent more involved, if that's okay with you. He has connections that I don't."

She slid the door closed behind them, heading towards the stairs.

"That would be great," Scott told her. "The more help the better, right?"

"I'll e-mail all the information I have," she said with a nod.

"That's not gonna be a long e-mail," Stiles muttered.

It bothered him how little information they had, but it's not like they could help that fact. He had spent hours looking at his almost blank board, trying to find some small connection. He never could.

Maybe that's what bugged him the most. He was the one who always figured it out, and now that he couldn't, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong with him. That he was slipping. It was frustrating.

A hand slid into his, and he looked over to see Lydia looking at him with concern as they made their way down the stairs.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Nothing," he said. "Just trying to piece everything together."

"We'll figure it out," she assured him.

"I know," he nodded.

Honestly, at this point, he wasn't so sure.

'''''''''

Lydia walked into her house, following her mother to the kitchen.

Natalie put the bag of food down, pulling out the take-out boxes. "Here's your noodles, sweetie."

"Thanks," Lydia told her, taking the box from her mom and grabbing a set of chopsticks. There was an awkward silence as they sat there, one that had only been broken with simple questions since they had left the McCall house. Lydia had been over it for a while. "What do you want to ask me?"

Natalie looked at her, a falsely innocent expression on her face. "What do you mean?"

Lydia dropped her chopsticks into her noodles with a sigh. "I know that you've been wanting to ask me questions since before we left. So ask."

Her mom sighed, setting her own chopsticks down. "I don't even know where to start, Lydia."

"Just start asking questions," she said. "I'll probably give you more questions than answers, anyway."

"All right. Why didn't you tell me?"

Lydia pulled in her lips, nodding slowly. Her mom went straight to the punch. "I, uh…I didn't know how. I thought that you would think that I was crazy. At first I thought that I actually was crazy, I didn't want to end up in Eichen like Grandma. So I kept it to myself. I didn't talk to anyone about it."

"What about Scott and Stiles? Or Allison?" her mom asked. "Why wouldn't you talk to them?"

"I didn't know that they knew at first," she explained. "After Peter attacked me, they thought that I was okay when I didn't turn into a werewolf. I was immune. So they thought that it would be better for me not to know, even though I knew that they were hiding something from me."

"But that was when you started having Banshee experiences?" Natalie asked. "That's why you were acting so strange?"

"No, actually." Lydia looked down at her noodles. "That was when Peter kind of…possessed me? I don't even know if that's the right word."

Her mother's eyes widened. "Possessed you?"

"More like he had a connection with me after he was killed," Lydia told her. "I guess because of me being a Banshee."

"And you didn't tell me anything because you thought that I would put you in Eichen?" Natalie asked. "Because you knew that we didn't believe your grandmother?"

"I didn't actually know about Grandma until a few months ago," Lydia admitted. "That's when I found out what really happened to her."

Natalie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I let you go through all of this alone."

"It's not like I made it very obvious," Lydia said. "I tried to hide it, and I was pretty good at it for the most part."

"I should've known that something was going on," her mother insisted.

Lydia couldn't help but laugh. "You did. That's why you sent me to the guidance counselor. You tried to get me to go to a real therapist, but I refused. Do you not remember that?"

"I should have done more," Natalie said.

"It wouldn't have helped," Lydia told her. "Things still would've happened. You couldn't protect me from that. All you can do accept that I'm going to be involved and let me do it."

Natalie bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. "How do you expect to raise a child in this type of environment? It's so dangerous."

"Stiles and I put that into consideration when we made our decision," Lydia said. "Whether or not it would be safe to have a child was a huge factor. I still have my worries, but I know that the Pack will protect it, and that my baby will be safe."

She rested a hand on the swell of her stomach, rubbing circles with her thumb. She was confident that her child would be safe, and she needed her mother to see that.

"I know you believe that, sweetheart," her mom said. "But I still have my doubts."

"They protected when I was taken, didn't they?" she asked. "They've been protecting me this whole time, and I'm still alive."

"It doesn't mean you haven't been hurt," Natalie argued.

"And they're more experienced now," Lydia insisted. "They know more now. Plus, I was learning how to fight for myself with Derek and Parrish before I got pregnant, so now I can take care of myself, and the baby."

"You really think that you can do this?" Her mother asked. She wasn't being condescending, or doubtful. She was just asking.

Lydia looked her in the eye, trying to make her determination clear. "I do, Mom. I really do."

After looking at her for a moment, studying her face, Natalie nodded and turned back to her food. "Okay. If you truly believe that you can do this, then okay."

"Really?" she asked. "That's it?"

"Yes," her mom told her. "I hate everything that you've been through, and I especially hate that I haven't been there for you like I could have."

"Mom –"

She held up a hand to stop Lydia from talking. "Let me finish. As much as I hate it, after talking to John and Melissa, I know that it's something that I have to let you do, because it's not a choice for any of you. So if you want to raise this child, and think that you guys can protect it, then I believe you. And I believe my grandchild is very safe in this…Pack."

Lydia smiled. "It's weird to say 'Pack' the first few times, isn't it?"

"Extremely," Natalie admitted.

"You'll get used to it," Lydia assured her. "I promise."

She chuckled. "I hope so."

''''''''''

"What are you looking at?"

Derek glanced behind him as Braeden rested her head on his shoulder, staring at the page he was looking at on his laptop. "Just browsing."

She raised an eyebrow at him, an amused expression on her face. "Is there something that you wanna tell me?"

"It's not for me," he said, taking her hand as she walked around him and straddled his lap.

"Well, I hope not," she told him, running her finger through the hair on the back of his neck. "I don't think I'm ready for that."

"Me either," he admitted. "But we do have people who are trying to get ready for it, and I was trying to figure out how to help."

"That's a lot of help," she commented, looking back at the screen.

He pulled her closer, his arms supporting her to make sure that she wouldn't fall. "They're going to need it, though."

"How do you know they haven't started picking things out, yet?" she asked.

"They have," he told her. "This is from her wish list. I had Malia send it to me when they were studying the other day."

"Impressive," she said, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. "I think I'm a bad influence on you."

"You are," he agreed, bringing her in for another kiss. "But I enjoy every second of it."

He smiled at her, and she smirked back at him, walking her fingers up his chest and shoulder. "How about I show you a few more bad things that you can enjoy."

"I'm pretty sure you've shown me everything you know," he teased her, resting his hands on her hips.

"Okay," she said, shifting back so she could stand up. "If you don't want to, I mean –"

"I never said that." His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back to him. She grinned, resting her hands on his chest. "I could always use some review."

She let out a yelp when he stood up quickly, his hands shifting just in time to catch her as she locked her ankles together behind his back. He caught her lips with his own as he walked them over to the bed, not breaking contact with her as he laid her down.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think! xoxo**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey, lovelies! Here's this week's chapter. I wanna thank everyone for being so awesome and for the reviews, I appreciate it so much!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Lydia opened her locker, sighing when she saw the envelope fall out. She knew exactly what it was, and she didn't want to deal with it after the weekend she had. She reached down to pick it up, cursing at how difficult the simple action was becoming.

"Don't worry about it."

A hand swooped down and picked up the envelope, handing it to her as she straightened up.

"Thank you, Malia," she said, taking the envelope and shoving it back in her locker.

"You're not gonna read it?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"No," Lydia told her. "It is a letter that contains a prayer, a plea to turn to God in my 'time of need', with low-key slut-shaming laced throughout."

Malia nodded slowly, her concern clear. "How do you know that?"

She sighed, closing her locker and shifting her bag. "Because it's not the first one I've gotten. But don't tell anybody, okay?"

"Why not?" Malia asked. "It obviously bothers you. Maybe we can help."

"It's not a big deal," Lydia assured her.

"But it bothers you," Malia insisted as they started walking.

"Not really," she said.

"Lydia!"

She paused, taking a deep breath before turning around to face Marcia Johanssen. Of course she would want to talk to Lydia. She was the one who was 'anonymously' giving her the letters in the first place.

"Hi," Lydia said, giving the girl a polite nod. They had never gotten along, and Marcia hadn't talked to her since freshman year science class, where they had gotten into a fight over Creationism versus Evolution when Marcia had told Mr. Harris that he was wrong for teaching 'an obvious lie when it clearly states in the Bible…'

The girl handed her a flyer from the stack that she had been holding. "I just wanted to let you know that my church is having a revival over the weekend. There's a special speaker and everything, and he's an amazing speaker! So moving. Anyway, it starts Friday –"

The bell rang, and Lydia had to stop herself from sighing in relief. "I have to get to class."

"No problem!" Marcia told her. "All the info's on the flyer."

"Thanks," Lydia told her, forcing a smile before making her way to class.

"What the hell was that about?" Malia asked her.

"She wants me to be her charity case," Lydia explained, crumpling up the poster as they walked. "Wants to help me and get me to her church like the people there wouldn't have been the first people to turn their backs on a pregnant teenager having a child out of wedlock."

They stopped at Lydia's class, and she threw the flyer in the trash. "Thanks for walking me to class, but you should get going."

"Right," Malia nodded. "See you later."

"Bye."

She made her way to her seat as everyone settled in, Mrs. Finch writing on the board.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Yeah," she nodded, pulling out her notebook. "Why?"

"Nothing," he told her. "You just seem kind of agitated."

"I'm fine," she assured him.

He didn't seem convinced, but Mrs. Finch called the class to attention then, stopping any conversation that he would've pursued. He shouldn't even be worried about her. Just a few days ago, there had been an attempt on his life, but of course he wasn't worried about himself. He was worried about the fact that she was slightly agitated.

As much as it bothered her, she knew that a lot of it was the Alpha in him. All of them had grown more and more protective of her, so much that it was starting to get on her nerves. There had been several times just in the past few days where one of the pack members had just happened to be in the same place she had been when she tried to get some alone time, and every time she ended up being home alone, Derek was 'just in the neighborhood,' and hung around the house. Of course she was thankful for their worry, but she wasn't the one that someone wanted dead.

She stole a glance at Scott, who was furiously taking notes, his brow creased in concentration. Her heart constricted as she watched him, knowing that while all he wanted was to do well in his classes but had to deal with everything else that was going on. He didn't deserve it, but he didn't have a choice. The deadpool was different, because it was going after everyone supernatural. Whoever was behind this was specifically going after Scott, and it was ridiculous.

"Scott?"

She looked to Mrs. Finch, her brow furrowing as she glanced back to her friend.

"Uh," Scott said, his eyes wide as he tried to remember whatever question that she asked. "An anabolic reaction is larger molecules…made from smaller molecules, and a catabolic reaction is the breakdown of large molecules?"

"Very good," Mrs. Finch told him, turning back to the board to continue her lecture.

A grin overtook Scott's face as he looked back to his notes, and Lydia couldn't help but smile as well. She couldn't help but be proud of him, because not only was he applying himself, but he had time to apply himself, something he hasn't always been able to do. It showed her that he wasn't worrying so much about everything else that he was going to let his grades suffer.

Feeling a little better, Lydia turned her attention to their teacher, taking notes of her own.

''''''''''

"Why do you need to know now?"

"Because I need to start looking, and if I need to order something specific, then I need to know ASAP, right?"

Liam stopped, looking at his best friend in annoyance. "They don't even know if it's a boy or a girl, Mason. I don't think they're looking too hard, yet."

"Yeah, but Lydia doesn't seem like the girl who adheres to strict gender roles and colors," Mason argued. "Plus, I can always get something that's not pink or blue. Come on. Does she have a theme for the nursery?"

"I don't know!" Liam exclaimed, resuming his pace down the hall. "Maybe you should ask her."

Mason grabbed his arm, a look of exasperation on his face. "You do know what 'surprise' means, right?"

"Why don't you wait until the baby shower's announced," Liam suggested. "That way you can get a better idea of what to get them."

"Speaking of, shouldn't they be getting ready for that?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Liam turned to Mason. "I don't know. I don't know anything about babies, or baby showers, or nurseries. I am probably the _last_ person you should be asking. If you want to surprise her, talk to Stiles. Because I don't know."

Mason huffed. "Fine."

"Why are you even so worried about this?" Liam asked.

"It's a baby," Mason said, his eyes lighting up in excitement. "The first baby of the Pack. That's not exciting to you?"

Liam had told Mason about everything a few weeks back, but now he was starting to regret it as Mason bombarded him with ideas and question and research.

 _"Do you see how she just flaunts it?"_

 _"I know, right? It's disgusting. Like, you just ruined your life. Why are you showing that off like a trophy?"_

Liam's jaw clenched, because he knew exactly who they were talking about. It wasn't the first time that he had overheard a conversation like that.

"What?" Mason asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Liam muttered, trying to control his anger.

"Is someone talking shit about Lydia again?" he asked, glancing around. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," Liam told him. "We're gonna be late for class."

"Come on, dude," Mason said. "Who is it?"

"Just a couple of girls," he admitted. "I don't know who."

"I swear I'm going to rip into somebody one of these days," Mason told him.

"Yeah?" Liam asked. "Better you than me."

He knew that his protective instinct was growing stronger, but he was trying his best not to slam anyone else into the lockers. It was really hard sometimes.

 _"I'm honestly not that surprised. I mean, she does have a reputation. She's lucky it hasn't happened before now."_

 _"I'm still not convinced it hasn't and she just took care of the other ones."_

A low growl escaped his mouth before he could stop it, and Mason looked at him with anger in his own eyes. He must have heard it, too.

Before Liam could do anything, Mason stalked over to the girls who had been talking, a couple of juniors, and started talking.

"What did you just say?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The girls looked him over, disdain clear in their eyes. "What do you mean?"

"What did you just say about my friend?" he asked. Liam made his way to Mason's side, making sure to keep his wolf at bay.

"Who says we were talking about your friend? We were having a private conversation," one of the girls told him. "Now beat it."

"No," Mason said. "You were having a conversation in the middle of the hallway where anyone could hear you. I hardly call that private. And on top of that, you were talking shit, which I won't tolerate no matter who it's about."

"And who made you the speech police? It's a free country."

"The first amendment actually only guarantees that you won't be arrested for saying what you want, and even then there's some things you can't say unless you do want to get arrested. It does not, however, protect you from me calling you out on your bullshit. But you would know that if you actually paid attention in class."

Liam couldn't help the snort that came from his mouth as the girls took offense.

"Well I don't appreciate your tone, or your language," the other girl told him.

"Okay," Mason nodded. "Fair enough. But my language is a lot less offensive than what you were just saying."

"I don't need you to lecture me."

"No, you don't," Mason told her. "But you do need someone to teach how to be a decent human being. I mean, are you really so unhappy with your life that you have to talk shit about other people just so you can make yourself feel better? If it is, I feel for you, but it doesn't get you off the hook. So stop being an asshole, and we won't have any problems."

"And what are you gonna do about it if we don't?"

Mason smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Let's just say I know where your boyfriend hangs out on Friday nights, and I don't think that you'd want anyone to find out that he really likes going to the _Sinemas._ "

She gasped, the other girl looking at her in confusion as Liam snorted again.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" the other girl asked.

"That's something you're going to have to ask your friend about," Mason told her. "But if I hear you guys again, than _everyone's_ going to know it."

He walked away, Liam following him as the bell rang for their next class. "Did you just blackmail her?"

"Yup," Mason nodded. "She's not going to say anything any time soon. At least, not here."

"That…was brilliant."

"That was a total guess, to be honest," Mason admitted. "I don't even know who her boyfriend is. Not to mention that would be a total douche move."

"That's okay," Liam told him. "It still got them to shut up."

Mason nodded. "Let's just get to class. I really don't want detention with Finstock."

''''''''''

There was a knock at the door, and Lydia looked up from her laptop with a knowing smirk. She made her way to the door, opening it to reveal Derek on the porch.

"Hey, I was just –"

"In the neighborhood and figured that you would see how I was doing?" she asked, amused. He could at least think up a new excuse. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he said as she stepped back and let him in.

"I know you're coming over to make sure I'm not alone," Lydia told him, leading him back into the living room. "You don't have to make excuses."

Derek shrugged, sitting down on the couch. "I figured you would resent it if I just came up and told you that I was going to be your bodyguard."

"Probably," she nodded, sitting down next to him and pulling the laptop towards her.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"Just window shopping," she told him. "Getting an idea of what I want to do with the nursery."

"Where's the nursery going to be?"

She looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You and Stiles haven't talked about it?" he asked, raising his brows at her. "Shouldn't you guys figure out where you're all going to live once the baby gets here? I mean, even if you stay at home, one of you has to move to the other's house if you want to be together."

"Right," Lydia said, turning back to the computer. "It hasn't come up, I guess."

"Then shouldn't you bring it up?"

"What's with the twenty questions, Derek?" she asked. "There's a lot of things we've talked about, and some that we haven't. Why are you so worried?"

"I just think that you should know before you start buying things," he explained. "So you know how much room you have to work with."

"It's not like I'm going to have a full-blown, top-notch nursery," she told him. "I don't need a huge room. I could probably clear out a corner of my room with and put a crib and changing table if necessary, you know?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "But you need to know for sure."

"Seriously, why is this so important for you?" she asked.

"Because it is!" he told her. "I want the baby to have a good nursery. Is that so wrong?"

She looked at him, a smirk growing on her face. "Are you saying that you're attached to the baby?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asked. "You're Pack, and so is the baby. It's a natural response."

"And that's it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "You want the baby to have a good nursery because it's Pack? Because I can understand you wanting to protect the baby, and wanting it to be safe. But you've never wanted me to have a nice bedroom just because I'm Pack."

She couldn't help but notice the redness that colored his cheeks. Was Derek Hale fucking blushing?

"Okay," he admitted, looking at his hands in his lap. "I may be attached to the baby. But hearing its heartbeat all the time and knowing that a person is being made as we sit here is kind of fascinating. Knowing that there's no tragic reason for a new Pack member. Not to mention that I already feel like I know the baby, even though it's not even moving yet. It's just…it's nice to have something good happen for once."

Lydia's vision blurred with tears as he spoke, and she couldn't hide the sniffle as she tried to catch her tears before they caused her eyeliner to run. Derek's gaze snapped to her with wide eyes as she grabbed a tissue off of the coffee table.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly awkward as his hand was frozen halfway between her shoulder and him, as if he was debating on whether or not to comfort her. "I didn't want you to cry."

"I'm fine," she told him, even though the tears didn't stop as she dabbed at her eyes. "It's these fucking hormones. I've started crying at anything slightly sentimental. Last night I started crying when Stiles told me that I looked beautiful in sweatpants."

Derek snorted, and she glared at him before laughing herself. Her phone went off, and she looked at it to find a text from Stiles.

 _-Almost ready?_

She responded affirmatively, taking a deep breath as she tried to control her simultaneous laughing and crying. "I need to freshen up my makeup for my doctor's appointment."

"Aren't you going to find out the sex of the baby today?" he asked. She didn't miss the hint of excitement in his voice.

"Maybe," she told him. "As long as the baby's not being modest."

"Well, let me know as soon as you find out, okay?" he told her. "I need to know what to get you for the baby shower."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "I don't even know if I'm having a baby shower."

"Between Melissa, your mother, and Kira?" he asked, raising his brow. "You're having a baby shower."

"I guess you're right," she said, setting the laptop on the coffee table as she got home. "Make yourself at home, okay? I'm gonna go freshen up."

''''''''''

Lydia took a deep breath as she waited in the examination room, holding Stiles' hand tightly.

"Lydia?" he said gently, waiting until she looked at him from the table. "I love holding your hand, I do. But I also like to be able to feel you holding my hand."

She let go of his hand, letting him get some feeling back into it. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he told her. "I know you're nervous. I am, too."

"We haven't even talked about names, Stiles," she said, letting her worried thoughts be vocalized. "I don't even know if I'm hoping for a boy or a girl, to be honest. And once we find out, than we have to go into overtime designing the nursery, and getting everything, not to mention figuring out where we're going to be living –"

"Hey," he interrupted, taking her hand again. "Let's worry about all of that _after_ we know for sure, okay? We don't need you stressed out right now. They're already keeping an eye on your blood pressure."

She nodded, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "Okay."

The door opened, and Dr. Levitt entered with a smile. "How are we today?"

Lydia smiled at the woman, trying to keep her nervousness down. "Pretty good."

"Good," she said, coming to stand by the examination table. "Are we excited to find out?"

"Oh, yes," Lydia told her, squeezing Stiles' hand – more gently this time.

"We can't wait," Stiles said, kissing her knuckles.

"Well, then let's get to it," Dr. Levitt told them. She turned on the machine as Lydia pulled up her shirt, wincing at the cold gel. She honestly should be used to it by now, but it got her every time. Stiles rubbed his thumb across her hand, taking a deep breath as Dr. Levitt placed the wand on her abdomen.

Lydia looked to Stiles as the doctor moved the wand, biting her lip when the heartbeat echoed through the room. He smiled at her, his eyes shining. He was just as anxious as she was, but he was trying to be calm for her.

Dr. Levitt paused at different spots on her belly for the next few minutes, taking pictures as she went. Just as Lydia was getting antsy, her eyes lit up and she looked at the couple with excitement in her eyes. "Do we want to know?"

Lydia nodded vigorously, tears already making their way to her eyes. Dr. Levitt turned the monitor to show them the picture. Lydia looked, but she couldn't really tell, even though she had researched what to look for. She looked for a few seconds, finally able to see it.

"Congratulations," Dr. Levitt said.

''''''''''

The doorbell rang, and the Sheriff went to answer it. Lydia worked on the platter at the island, ignoring her mother and Melissa's incessant questioning.

"Why can't you just go ahead and tell me?" her mother said. "I mean, it is my grandchild."

"You will find out with everybody else," Lydia told her yet again, putting the finishing touches on the cheese and cracker spread. "I want to see your reaction with everyone else's."

Natalie sighed, taking the platter to take it to the living room. "Who else do we have to wait for?"

"Um, that should be Liam, and if Mason's with him, than that should be everyone," Lydia said.

"Well Mason better be with him," Melissa said, grabbing the paper plates and napkins.

They made their way into the living room, seeing Liam and Mason sit down on the couch. They had decided on Lydia's house for the announcement, simply because she had more seating in the living area. Natalie and Melissa set things on the coffee table, taking seats of their own.

"Well?" Malia asked. "We're all here."

"Right," Stiles said, standing up and going to stand next to Lydia.

She took his hand, resting her free one on her bump as she looked at the Pack. "So, as you all know, we had an appointment today, and we found out the sex of the baby."

"Just get to it!" Scott said excitedly.

Lydia looked to Stiles as he grinned, holding out the small gift bag that he was holding. He looked at her. "You wanna do it?"

With a nod, she pulled out the contents of the bag, holding it up for them to see. It was a pink bib, the New York Mets logo embroidered onto it in white.

There was a moment of silence as they registered the color, broken with a squeal coming from Kira.

"A girl?" her mother and Melissa asked in unison. Lydia nodded as people started cheering and yelling.

"Pay up!" Mason told Liam, holding out his hand.

Scott was the first one to her to hug her, lifting her up with ease and spinning her around. She yelped as her feet left the ground, laughing when he set her down and didn't let go, swaying them from side to side.

"You have to let go of me at some point," she finally told him as people talked excitedly behind them.

"I know," he said, and his voice was thick. "I'm just so excited."

Her chest tightened at the emotion in his voice, and he finally pulled away, tears in his eyes.

"Those are happy tears, right?" she asked.

"Of course!" Scott told her.

Everyone hugged her, the excitement in the room palpable. When Mason and Liam got to her, she raised an eyebrow at them. "You bet on the sex of my child?"

"Hell yeah!" Mason said. "I do that every time I know someone who's pregnant!"

She laughed, pulling them into a hug. "Why does that not surprise me?"

Derek hugged her almost as enthusiastically as Scott. "Now I know what to get you for your baby shower."

"It better be something good," she teased.

"It's going to be _very_ good," he told her, giving her a grin. She looked at him curiously, but he didn't elaborate.

When the Sheriff was finally able to get to her, there were tears in his eyes.

"Congratulations, Grandpa," she told him, pulling him into a hug.

"Congrats, yourself," he told her, squeezing her tight.

When they pulled apart, Lydia looked over at Stiles, who had been distanced from her in the excitement. He was talking animatedly with Scott, his arms flailing as he conversed.

"I have a question," she said, turning back to John.

"Shoot," he told her.

"I've been thinking about names, and I was wondering how you might feel about something," she explained. "But I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I brought it up with Stiles."

"Okay," he nodded slowly, almost like he knew what she was going to ask.

"As much as I had thought that if I ever had a daughter one day that I would have Allison somewhere in her name, it's a little too soon for me right now," she told him. "But I was thinking that maybe – if you're okay with it, of course – that maybe we could have Claudia as her middle name?"

He took a deep breath, a few tears escaping as he blinked. He didn't say anything for a moment, and Lydia was sure that he was trying to find a nice way to say no. But then he smiled at her, nodding. "If Stiles is okay with it, I would absolutely love that."

Lydia's own eyes filled with tears as he pulled her in for another hug. She almost hadn't asked him, because she was afraid that it would be too painful, but now she was glad she did. Because as painful as that time had been for the Stilinski men, they still loved and missed Claudia more than they would ever let on. It only made sense that they should honor her.

She enjoyed the rest of the night, talking and enjoying the presence of her friends and family. Melissa and her mother started talking about the baby shower – Derek gave her a 'told you so' raise of his eyebrow – and everyone else just sat around enjoying themselves.

As the night went on, she couldn't but think that this should happen more often. The only time the Pack was ever all together was when something bad was happening, and that shouldn't be how it was. She decided then and there that there would be plenty more nights like this, because if her daughter was going to grow up with a Pack to protect her, than she was going to have good times with them. Lydia was going to make sure or that.

* * *

 **I'd love to know what you think!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Here's this week's chapter guys!**

* * *

Stiles pulled into the station parking lot, already bored as he thought about work. He loved working at the station, he did. He got to see his dad, and help him on some cases if they were supernaturally involved, but the majority of what he did was filing reports, which got _really_ old after a while.

But until he could become an actual cop, this was as good as it would get. Not to mention that he had to have some sort of income when the baby was born.

At least he got some shooting lessons in while he was there.

"Hey, kid," his dad said when he stopped by the office before beginning his filing. "What's up?"

"Just reporting for duty," Stiles told him.

"Maybe you can help me with something real quick," John said, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.

Intrigued, Stiles sat down. "What's up, daddy-o?"

"Have you guys decided on how to decorate the nursery?" he asked. "Because Melissa was wanting for all the grandparents to go in on something nice for the nursery to give to you guys, and it's my mission to find out what the theme is so it'll go."

Stiles chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Dad, the baby shower's not for another month."

"It'll come up a lot faster than you think," John told him.

"Don't remind me," Stiles sighed. Between school, and baby stuff, he hadn't really thought too much about the baby shower. "We've settled on lighter colors for the nursery. Lydia wants something a little more sophisticated, so we're doing light pinks and purples and some white. Stuff like that. There's actually a section on my board if you wanna look at it."

It had been two weeks since he found out that he was having a daughter, and Lydia had been obsessively trying to figure everything out for the nursery, even though they didn't know where the nursery was actually going to be. They had barely talked about names, even. Of course, they knew her middle name. Lydia had talked to him about that as soon as the party was over. But they had yet to find their daughter a first name.

"I'll have to do that," he nodded. "Have you heard anything from Argent lately?"

"No," Stiles shook his head. "But Braeden said that if he's off on a lead, that he can't always check his e-mails."

"Well, hopefully he can help us," John said. "I'll be a lot happier when the person behind this is caught."

"Me, too," Stiles agreed.

''''''''''

"Why does this have to be so complicated?"

Lydia shrugged, taking a bite of popcorn as she looked over his notes. "You know that you can do this, Scott. Just because it's labelled 'mid-term,' doesn't make it any worse."

"When it's worth twenty-percent of my grade by itself, it is!" he exclaimed. "That's a lot of pressure, Lydia!"

"There are a lot of questions on that test," Lydia told him. "That works in your favor. If you do get a question wrong, it's not worth very much. But you're not going to fail, Scott. I promise."

He took a deep breath, visibly calming down as she rested a hand on his arm. "Okay."

"I'm going to go get some more popcorn," she told him, squeezing his arm gently before taking the bowl to the kitchen.

"How's it going?" she asked Malia, who was sitting at the kitchen table with Isaac, going over their history notes.

"Don't ask," Malia grumbled.

"She's doing great, actually," Isaac said, giving the coyote a mock glare. "As much as I hate to admit it, she's got more right than I have."

"And who's the one who actually went to school?" Malia asked, giving him a shit-eating grin before turning to Lydia. "It's still boring as shit."

"Shh!" Lydia chastised, putting her hands on her belly, which had grown considerably in the past couple of weeks. "Language!"

"You said yourself that she won't be able to hear for at least another week," Malia argued.

"We should still get into the habit, though," she said, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave and setting the timer.

"I can stop cussing whenever I want," Isaac said with a smirk. "I don't have to get in the fucking habit."

Lydia knew by his shit-eating grin that he was messing with her, but she gave him a glare anyway. "If my daughter's first word is 'fuck', I'm blaming you two."

"Language, Lydia," Malia teased, giving her a false chastising expression.

The microwave went off as Lydia groaned. She quickly poured the popcorn into the bowl, shooting them another look as she started walking back towards the living room. "I really shouldn't let you guys in the same room together. It's nothing but a pain in my ass."

"Language!" they called out in unison as she crossed the threshold. Scott was grinning at her as she sat back on the couch with a sigh.

"They're too much," she told him, sitting back with her book.

He shrugged, continuing to write in his notebook. She watched him for a minute, waiting to see if he was going to respond. He didn't.

"Are you ignoring me?" she asked. He didn't look up from the paper, but a few seconds later, he slid his notebook over to her. She looked down to read what he wrote.

 _-I think it's kinda cute. They obviously like each other, right?_

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, and he tilted his head to the side in question.

Grabbing her pen, she decided to continue the conversation on paper, knowing that he didn't want sensitive ears to eavesdrop. _–There's definitely some flirting going on, in a weird, snarky way. You really think that Isaac likes her?_

She watched as he wrote, wanting to know the answer. If he did like Malia, she was happy for him. She knew that's what Allison would want for him. To move on. To be happy. And even though she hadn't really had the chance to talk to him about it, she also knew that he hadn't moved on when he was in France. All he had done was escape, and when he came back, it was even harder for him. That's why Malia had hated him at first, because he was overdoing his usual bluntness and sarcasm. But after a couple of weeks, he had gone back to his normal annoying self, and Malia and him had been growing closer ever since.

Scott finally got done writing, handing the notebook back over to her.

 _-He says that he doesn't, but I know it's a bunch of BS. I see the way he looks at her, and hear the way his heartrate speeds up whenever she touches him. Not to mention the chemo-signals that both of them have when they're around each other, especially lately. But as annoying as it gets, I also understand why he hasn't done anything about it, you know? I mean, how long did it take me to do anything with Kira?_

Lydia looked at him, nodding in understanding. His eyes were full of compassion, and she knew that he knew all too well the thoughts that were probably going through Isaac's head.

 _-Have you tried talking to him about it?_ She wrote, handing the notebook back to him.

 _-Yeah. I told him that it's okay to like her, but I don't think it's set in, you know?_

Lydia pointed to herself, raising her eyebrows in question and then pointing to the door to the kitchen.

"Only if you want to," he whispered.

"I don't mind," she whispered back. He nodded, and she turned back to her notebook. "Ready to get started again?"

''''''''''

"Were they being kinda weird to you?" Malia asked when she heard the front door close. It had been a couple of hours since Lydia had made the last batch of popcorn, and Scott and Lydia had finished studying. Scott had just left with her to make sure that she got home okay.

"What do you mean?" he said, writing something down.

"I don't know," she told him. "They were silent for a while, and then they started acting a weird around us."

Isaac shrugged. "Lydia's pregnant, and her hormones are raging. I've seen her do weirder the past couple of weeks. Did you see how she put peanut butter on some of her popcorn?"

"Not that kind of weird," she said. "Just…off."

"I tend not to worry about it," he admitted, biting on the end of his pencil as he looked at her. She couldn't help but be drawn by the action, momentarily distracted by his lips. She immediately looked back up to his eyes, but she knew that he had seen it by the glint in his blue eyes.

Frustrated, and possibly a little embarrassed, she reached over and grabbed the pencil, pulling it out of his hand. "You're ruining the pencil."

He gave her an affronted look, holding his arms out. "With what, my cooties?"

"That, too," she told him. "But I actually use the erasers, and would like them not to have teeth marks thank you very much."

Okay, so that wasn't the entire reason, but it's all that he needed to know.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, leaning forward across the table. "Because I haven't seen you use an eraser once this whole time we were studying."

"That's because we're doing history, not math," she explained.

"Can I have my pencil back?" he inquired, holding out his hand.

"Are you going to continue chewing on it?" she asked.

"Not if you'd rather I use my mouth for something else," he said, looking at her through his lashes. Her heart skipped a beat, and she cursed herself as a smirk appeared on his face. He had fucking heard it.

"Some gum would probably work," she quipped, standing up and going to the fridge. She opened it and appreciated the cold air coming from it, because it had gotten warm in the kitchen. He had almost constantly been flirting with her – or, she thought that he was flirting with her if his chemo-signals were anything to go by – but he never did anything about it. The more he teased her though, the more she wanted him to actually do something.

Maybe two could play at that game.

After a moment of looking, she grabbed a soda.

"Get me one?" he asked.

She sighed, reaching down to get another one and closing the fridge. She walked right over to him, standing right beside him as she sat down the can in front of him. "Here you go."

Taking the long way back to her seat, she gently let her hand graze across the span of his shoulders. She didn't miss the way he shuddered as his heartbeat sped up, or the chemo-signals that signified a spike of lust. With a smirk, she pulled her notebook over to his side of the table, plopping down in the seat next to him at the last minute.

"What are you doing?" he asked, giving her a curious look. They both knew that she was breaking their unspoken rule about seating arrangements.

But all she did was shrug. "I figured that it would be easier to compare notes if we were sitting next to each other."

"Okay," he nodded, clearing his throat as he turned back to his notes.

She listened as his heartbeat returned to normal, only for it to speed up again when he accidentally brushed his arm up against hers. But then again, hers sped up as well.

"You know what?" he said, slamming his book shut after their knees brushed together for the second time. "I'm officially brain-dead. Why don't we call it a night?"

"But we haven't covered all of the material," she countered. Yes, she wanted away from the tension between them, but she also wanted to get a good grade on the exam. She could suffer through a little frustration for that.

"You'll do great," he assured her, standing up and taking the empty soda cans to the trash. "There's only a little bit left, and I'm sure that you can do that just fine on your own."

"If I recall," she said, following him. "You're the one who wanted to study with me."

"Yeah," he agreed. "And now I'm tired, and I want to go to bed."

"Are you sure that's the reason?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. "Or is it because you can't stand to be close to me for too long?"

"Are you insinuating that you're annoying?" Isaac asked. "Because that's true."

"I'm annoying?" she asked. "You're the one who keeps throwing the fact that I was a coyote for eight years in my face!"

"I haven't done that in a long time!" he argued. "I was just doing it to get a rise out of you!"

"Why do you have to get a rise out of me?" she asked "Why can't you be a decent human being and start a conversation?"

He sighed, walking back to the table, and she followed him again. "You wanna know what else is annoying? The fact that you know all about my tragic past, and can throw it in my face, but you can't tell me anything about your life!"

"My tragic past isn't anything that you would want to joke about," he admitted heatedly, grabbing onto the back of his chair.

"And mine is?" she spit out. "The fact that I killed my mother and my sister on the full moon and felt so guilty that I stayed a coyote for eight years is funny to you? The fact that I was forced back into human form, only to be shoved into Eichen House, and then find out that my dad – the only living family that I have left – isn't my biological father? That's somehow funny to you?"

"I'm sorry I joked about it, then!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "It's not funny! But I'm kind of an asshole, okay? You really shouldn't be surprised!"

"I'm not!" she told him, vaguely wondering how they got to this conversation. "But it's still crazy that I actually consider you a friend, and I don't even know where your parents are, or why you were in France for almost a year! I spend a lot of time with you, but I don't know anything about you!"

"Why does it matter?" he asked. "Why does knowing my past matter so much to you?"

"Because I like you, you jackass!"

There was a moment of tense silence as Isaac looked at her in dumbfounded shock. It was actually quite infuriating.

They both jumped as his phone rang, his brow creasing in confusion as he looked at the ID. "Braeden?"

"Put it on speaker," she said, getting closer to him as he answered the phone.

"Where's Scott?" Braeden asked, her voice urgent. "He's not answering his phone."

"He's making sure Lydia gets home okay," Isaac told her. "Why?"

"Because I just got a call from Chris," she explained. "He knows who the account belongs to."

''''''''''

Scott followed Lydia on his bike, making sure that she got home safe. At first she had thought that it was stupid, but it honestly made her feel better knowing that she was safe.

He also might've played the baby card, saying that he wanted to keep her safe. Lydia was pretty okay with it after that.

He followed her as she made a left turn, confused. She needed to go straight to go home. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he continued to follow her.

''''''''''

"What do you mean he knows?" Malia asked. "I thought that it was untraceable."

"It is," she said. "But he recognized the account number."

"How can he recognize the account number?" Isaac asked.

There was a beat of silence before Braeden answered. "Because it's his father's account."

''''''''''

Gerard Argent sat in his wheelchair, hacking up the black goo that never seemed to run out. Once he could stop coughing, he looked back to the table to look at his options. After what happened with Anaheim, he couldn't find anyone willing to take the job. It probably would've been better if she had been killed. But of course Scott McCall had to be the enigma of a wolf with morals, and instead made sure that the law took care of her.

There was a knock at the door, and he slowly turned his chair around as it opened.

"What are you doing here?" he asked bitterly.

The figure walked into the room leisurely. "What? A girl can't visit her daddy?"

''''''''''

Scott was beginning to worry as Lydia turned onto the road that left town. His instinct told him that this was a Banshee thing, and he sped up to try and catch up with the car.

As if she was aware of it, the car sped up.

"Fuck," he snapped, slowing the bike back down. The car followed suit. He didn't want to cause an accident by causing her fugue state self to speed up. Instead, he would just follow her, helping her whenever she got to where she was going.

He just prayed that it wasn't going to be bad.

''''''''''

"Gerard is the one doing this?" Isaac asked in disbelief. How was that bastard still alive?

"Are all the Argents except for Chris psychopaths?" Malia asked. Isaac couldn't help but cringe at the wording.

"All the ones alive are," he told her, unable to control the bitterness in his tone. It wasn't fair that Gerard and possibly Kate were still alive while Allison wasn't. "That would explain why he had to hire people."

"Yeah," Braeden said through the phone. "Look, Chris is already on his way back here to help us. As soon as Scott gets home, tell him to get over here. We need to protect him."

"Why?" Malia asked, worry clear in her voice. "What else is wrong?"

There was another moment of silence as they waited for Braeden to answer. "The Calaveras just got a new lead on Kate. She's alive and somehow got through their defenses."

"She's coming back, isn't she?" Isaac asked, dread settling deep in his bones. He'd never actually had to deal with her, but he knew that she was bad news.

"If she's not already here."

''''''''''

"You are not my daughter," Gerard told Kate, who was leaning against the closed door. "My daughter is dead."

"The scratch was deep, Daddy," she told him. "I wasn't really dead."

"I think you misunderstood me, Katelynn," he said. "You are dead to me."

She glared at him as she started coughing again, covering his mouth with his dirty handkerchief.

"Scott really got you, didn't he, Daddy?" she asked, walking towards him and kneeling in front of him. "We have that in common."

"What did he do to you?" Gerard asked when he stopped coughing. "If I remember correctly, Peter is the one who did you wrong."

"Scott is the reason Allison is dead," Kate snapped. "He's the reason that our family has been decimated, leaving Chris, who has turned into McCall's little bitch!"

She stood up suddenly and started pacing, her anger coursing through her.

"Language," Gerard chided. "It's not ladylike."

"Good thing you didn't raise me to be a lady, Daddy," she said, stopping to face him. "You raised to be a hunter. A leader. You raised me to be the decision-maker, and you can't always be a lady when you're making the tough decisions."

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"To work with you of course." She kneeled back down, looking him in the eye. "We both want Scott dead, and you can't find anyone else willing to kill him. So why don't I do the dirty work for you?"

He glared, wiping his nose as it started to run. "I refuse to work with the demon that has possessed my daughter."

"I thought you would say that," she said. "I mean, I did grow up with you. I have to say, though, it does hurt to go from princess to demon in two seconds flat. But I do have a back-up plan. Just like you always taught me."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" he asked.

She turned her head to the side, her eyes wide in fake innocence as she stood over him, moving around to his blind spot. "If you're not going to work with me, then you're just in my way. I can't have that."

She didn't give him a chance to respond before she pulled out a silenced gun and pulled the trigger, the bullet landing somewhere in his brain.

''''''''''

Scott got more anxious the more he drove, and he couldn't help but think that he should call for back-up. But calling would mean pulling over so he didn't lose control of the bike, and pulling over meant losing Lydia.

"Come on, Lydia," he said, tightening his grip on the handles. "What's going on?"

There was a red light, and she was apparently aware enough of her surroundings to stop. Right as Scott was catching up, the light turned green, and she pressed on the gas. Hard.

Scott was so focused on her that he didn't notice the truck that didn't stop.

He didn't notice it until it was right on Lydia's car, crashing into the driver's side and sending her car spinning across the asphalt.

He slammed on his brakes too fast, causing the motorcycle to flip, sending him with it.

Landing hard in the grass on his back, he couldn't breathe for a few seconds, hearing a sickening crunch that he guessed was his bike. His head pounded, and the concentrated pain on the side of his head let him know that he had hit something hard through his helmet. There was the noise of a car horn, like someone was laying on it, and the squeal of tires as the truck backed up and hauled ass.

Scott tried to clear his head, even as his vision tunneled. He knew that he was probably going to pass out soon, but he had to make sure that Lydia was okay. That the baby was okay.

The last thing he noticed before his consciousness gave up on him was the smell of blood.

* * *

 **Please don't hate me...**


	19. Chapter 19

Stiles somehow made it into the hospital, everything seeming to go in slow motion. He was getting to the point where he couldn't breathe, but he was able to push past that. Lydia needed him to be present. She need him to be okay.

Looking around, Stiles saw Scott. His best friend was freaking out, his breathing haggard as tears ran down his face, Melissa trying and failing to calm him down. Stiles felt himself edge closer to that panic attack.

He ran over to them, both of the McCalls turning to look at him, Scott visibly trying to calm himself down. Stiles didn't miss the blood on Scott's hands.

"What happened?" Stiles asked, unable to stay calm and letting his terror show. "Is she okay? Is she –"

"She's alive," Melissa told him. "They have her in surgery right now. There were miraculously no broken bones, but she does have some internal bleeding. But I think she'll pull through."

His panic subsided, but only minutely as his father caught up to him. "Okay, okay, and-and the baby? Is she –"

A sob escaped Scott's mouth as he sat down in one of the chairs, running his hands through his hair. Melissa closed her eyes and grabbed Stiles' arm. Stiles ripped away from her and went to Scott.

"Scott?" he asked, his panic coming back full-force. "Scott, what's wrong? Please tell me that she's okay. Please – please tell me that my daughter's okay!"

Grabbing Scott's shoulders so his best friend would look at him, he searched for any sign of good news on his friend's face. He found none. "Scott! Tell me she's okay!"

Scott bit his lip as Stiles' voice broke. "I'm sorry, Stiles, I'm so sorry. I promised that I would protect her and –"

"Scott!" He heard the desperation in his voice.

His best friend finally looked at him, tears streaming down his face, his voice small as it broke. "I couldn't h-hear her heartbeat."

Stiles fell back on his ass in the middle of the hallway, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He felt hands on his shoulders, but he couldn't focus on anything. Scott's words played over and over in his head as he tried to get enough oxygen. This couldn't be happening. She had to be okay. His daughter couldn't be gone before she even had a chance to live.

He heard someone talking to him, but he didn't focus on them. All he could focus on was that the one thing that was supposed to be good, the one thing that the universe was going to give him had been taken away, just like everything else.

But why did he expect anything different?

"Stiles, you need to breathe!"

He was brought back to the room around him. His father's arm was around him, rubbing circles onto his back. Melissa held his head in her hands, trying to coach him.

"You've gotta breathe, honey," she repeated. "Lydia's gonna need you, okay?"

That got him to focus. He nodded, letting her coach him through his panic attack. Once he could breathe again, he pushed Melissa and his dad off of him tears making their way down his cheeks.

"Stiles," Scott said softly, his voice raw with emotion. "Stiles, I –"

"You said you would protect her," he said, using his sleeve to wipe his face. "You promised."

"I know, I'm sorry –"

"You _promised!_ "

His fist flew before he could think, connecting with Scott's face and sending him back.

"Stiles!"

Scott held his jaw, refusing to look Stiles in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you should be sorry!" Stiles yelled. "You told me that you would protect my daughter! You promised me that nothing would happen! But you couldn't do that! And now she's…"

He broke down again, this time in sobs, collapsing back onto the floor. His father's arms wrapped back around him, and he held on as tight as he could, sobbing into his dad's shoulder.

"Why?" he asked, his voice raw. "Why?"

"I don't know, Stiles," John said, his voice shaking with tears. "I don't know."

'''''''''

Melissa led Scott away from Stiles, knowing that Scott didn't need to see that when he was falling apart himself.

She took him to the break room down the hall, trying to control her own emotions. She needed to be strong for her son right now. For everyone. She sat him down in one of the chairs, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it before handing it to him. "Wash your hands."

His breath caught as he cried, wiping the blood off of his hands. "Mom, I-I'm sorry. I failed. I w-was supposed to protect them, and I f-failed them."

She shushed him, rubbing his arms. "This is _not_ your fault, Scott. You couldn't have known, okay? Sometimes things just happen, horrible things, but it's not your fault."

Her voice shook as the emotion built up, but she pushed it aside.

"How can it hurt this much?" he asked after a moment of silence. "I already loved her so much, and I didn't even get to meet her, Mom. But now it just hurts, and I just – how can it hurt this much to lose someone that I never even knew?"

Looking at her son, she couldn't hold back her emotions anymore. They were all too young to deal with any of the things they went through. But this? This was a whole different monster. One that she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy, much less these kids. And she knew that whatever Scott was feeling, Stiles and Lydia were going to be so much worse, and she didn't want them to go through that. Why couldn't they just have one good thing without the world taking it away?

"I can't tell you that, honey," she told him, her voice breaking as she took his hand. "But I can tell you that your friends are going to need you. They're going to need your love and support. It's okay to grieve, and hurt for someone you haven't met. But Stiles and Lydia are going to need their Pack."

"Stiles hates me," Scott said. "He doesn't need me."

"He doesn't hate you," she assured him. "He's hurting. He needs someone to blame, and you just happened to be there. He would've blamed anyone who was with her tonight, okay? He's still going to need you."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them trying to get themselves back in check.

"You know," Scott said, his voice flat as he looked down. "They hadn't even decided on a name yet."

Melissa couldn't help the sob that escaped her, and Scott wrapped his arms around her tightly.

''''''''''

John watched as Stiles sat in the waiting room, finally in a chair as he stared off into space, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. The doctor had already been out to confirm what Scott had told them, and they were waiting for Lydia to get into a room.

The Pack had gotten there a few minutes before, and he was left to explain everything. It hadn't been easy, but he'd done it. Now he sat a few chairs down from his son, Derek sitting across from him. Kira had left, getting emotional and not wanting to put that extra weight on them. Malia and Isaac had followed her.

John looked at Derek, who was staring down at his hands, his face looking like it was made of stone. He knew that Derek was trying to be strong, but he felt the loss just as much as the rest of the Pack apparently had.

"Can I ask you a question?" John asked, his voice hoarse from his earlier crying.

Derek looked at him, surprised, but nodded. "Sure."

"How, uh…How does this Pack thing work when something like this happens?" he asked. "How does this affect the members?"

"I've never actually had something like this happen before now," Derek admitted. "But from what I'm gathering right now, not well."

"How are you feeling about it?"

Derek swallowed, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I feel like I just lost a Pack member. Because I did."

John wasn't completely sure how that felt, but he knew that it was a strong loss. There was a reason Derek had left for so long after the fire.

"I'm gonna go get a drink," John said. "Do you want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks," Derek told him.

He nodded, not even bothering to ask Stiles. His son hadn't responded to anything since the doctor filled them in on what had happened.

Walking down the hall, he checked his phone, trying to see if Natalie had called him. She had been out of town for some teacher's conference, but was on her way home after Melissa had called her. She didn't know about the baby yet, just that Lydia had been in an accident. He wasn't looking forward to telling her.

He stopped in front of the vending machine, deciding that water would be best. With a sigh, he pulled out his wallet to grab a dollar bill, his breath catching when he saw the picture.

It was his granddaughter's latest sonogram picture. It had been taken two weeks ago, when they found out that she was a girl. She was so small, so delicate, so perfect.

And now she was gone.

The tears came before he could stop them, his breath catching on his sobs as he put his fist over his mouth. He leaned against the vending machine, sliding down slowly to sit on the floor as he buried his head into his hands.

He couldn't handle this. This was too much. How could she be gone? She hadn't even gotten a chance to live. She had never gotten to see the world, to see the love in her mother's eyes, the awe that would overwhelm her father as he held her for the first time. She would never get to see how much her grandfather had already adored her. How loved she would have been by the whole Pack.

She wouldn't get to see any of that now.

''''''''''

There was a loud beeping, slowly bringing Lydia out of consciousness. Her mind felt fuzzy, and as much as she wanted to move, her body fought her.

She heard the murmur of voices, and she tried to open her eyes, but her lids were too heavy. God, it was frustrating. What the hell had happened?

"Just let me talk to her, okay? I don't think anyone else will be able to tell her."

That sounded like Melissa, her voice closer than it had been. After a moment, Lydia was finally able to open her eyes, looking at a white tiled ceiling. She looked to her left to see a monitor, beeping in time with her heartrate.

"What…" Her voice cracked from the dryness she felt in her throat.

Melissa appeared with a cup, pointing the straw towards her mouth. "Here, sweetheart."

Lydia took a drink, sighing when she no longer felt like she had cotton in her mouth. "What happened?"

"You were in a car accident."

She didn't remember that. She remembered driving home, but that was all until she had woken up a few minutes ago.

A gasp escaped her as her hand went to her belly, wincing in pain at the motion. "Is she okay?"

Melissa pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath through her nose. She was obviously hesitant to say anything.

"Melissa," she said, fear and panic filling her. She heard the beeping of the monitor quicken slightly. "Melissa, she's okay, right?"

"It was pretty bad," Melissa told her gently, sitting in the chair next to the bed and moving it closer. "The truck was a lot bigger than your car, and it hit the driver side. You somehow miraculously didn't get any broken bones, but you have a lot of cuts and bruises, and you had some internal bleeding that we had to take care of."

"That doesn't answer my question," she bit out, frustration mixing with her panic. Now that she was becoming more aware of her body, she knew that something was wrong. There should have been a monitor on her stomach for the baby. But there wasn't.

Melissa closed her eyes, taking another breath, and Lydia didn't need to hear the next words out of her mouth, but she did. "She didn't make it."

A choked sob escaped Lydia, tears coming faster than she thought possible. "No. No, this can't be happening. She can't be gone!"

The beeping on the monitor quickened as she felt her panic rising.

"Lydia, sweetie, you need to calm down," Melissa told her, resting a hand on her arm. Lydia shoved it off. "You're going to overexert yourself."

"How can I be calm?" she yelled, resting her hands on her face as sobs overtook her. This couldn't be happening.

She knew that she was making a scene, but she didn't care. It hurt too much. Everything hurt. Sobs wracked her body as she laid there, trying to calm her down.

She would never get to see her daughter. Never get to see her grow up, and play princesses and be surrounded in love. Her daughter would never go to school. She would never find a boy – or a girl, she didn't care – she would never fall in love. She wouldn't become the beautiful woman that Lydia knew that she would've been.

Lydia had never even felt her move.

A body laid down next to her, wrapping their arms around her tightly, and a sob shook her body as she took in Stiles' scent. He didn't say anything. No words of comfort. No witty remarks. He just held her. She was thankful for that.

Her arms wound around him as much as she could without pulling out cords and needles, and she felt him shaking with sobs of his own as she buried her head in his chest.

They laid like that for a while until the sobs became small hiccups. She didn't notice when Melissa left.

"She's gone," she cried softly when she could talk again, refusing to look at him. "I couldn't protect her, and now she's gone."

"This isn't your fault," Stiles told her firmly. He didn't move to look at her, he just pulled her closer.

"Yes, it is," she insisted, her voice flat. "I was carrying her. It was my job to protect her, and I couldn't do it."

"It's not anybody's fault," he said. "Except for the person who slammed into you."

"Do we know who it was?" she asked.

"Scott said that whoever it was got out of there as fast as they could," he explained. "Scott was thrown off his bike, and couldn't stop them."

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"Fine," Stiles assured her. "Physically, anyway."

There was a click of heels, stopping right outside of her door. She didn't look up. She didn't have to. She knew who it was.

"Mom." Her voice broke as tears filled her eyes again.

Natalie came around to the opposite side of the bed from Stiles, hugging her daughter tightly but carefully, as if she was fragile. Lydia felt her mother's tears wetting her shoulder, and she cried harder.

"I'm sorry," Lydia cried. "I'm so sorry."

"Honey, no," she said, pushing Lydia's hair from her face. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

She placed a kiss on Lydia's forehead, reaching her arm across her daughter to take Stiles' hand, and Lydia noticed the Sheriff standing by the bed with red eyes, his hand resting on Stiles' arm.

They stayed like that for a long time, taking comfort in each other as they mourned.

''''''''''

Scott sat in the waiting room, resting his arms on his legs. He hadn't seen Stiles or Lydia since she got out of surgery, but he didn't go back there so they could be together, no matter how much he wanted to comfort them. It wouldn't do any good. Especially since it was his fault.

Derek sat down next to him, holding out a coffee in offering. Taking it, Scott took a drink, not knowing what else to do. The older wolf didn't say anything, but Scott didn't expect him to.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them sure what to say. Finally, Scott looked down at his coffee and spoke. "I'm sorry."

His voice was hoarse from both crying and disuse, and Derek looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"It's my fault," Scott told him. "I was there, and I couldn't protect them."

Derek nodded slowly, looking down at his cup for a moment before answering. "I don't think she blames you, because she knows it's not your fault. But I know that's not going to stop you from blaming yourself. Losing a Pack member as an Alpha – especially when it's something this sudden – it doesn't matter what happened. You'll always blame yourself for it. Think of what you could've done better. What you would have done instead. You know that already."

Scott nodded. He did know. He had already been through this with Allison, and there was still a part of him that blamed himself because he couldn't save her.

"But you have to get through that," Derek continued. "You have to accept it and move on even if you never stop thinking that it's your fault. But it's not your fault that Lydia went into a fugue state – and it's not Lydia's either. It's not your fault that the truck didn't stop at the light. None of that's your fault. You couldn't have known that any of that was going to happen."

"I should have," Scott muttered. "I should have weighed every possibility, and I didn't. That's on me."

"That is on you," Derek told him. "But just because you didn't do everything perfectly doesn't mean that you're not a good Alpha. It means you're human."

"I was so excited," he admitted, tears filling his eyes yet again. "I was so excited to be 'Uncle Scott.' To willingly be wrapped around her finger, and give her everything she wanted, and just spoil her rotten. I hadn't been that happy in a really long time. I…I guess I should've known that the world wouldn't let me be that happy."

Derek took a deep breath, and Scott looked up to see tears in the older wolf's eyes. "Yeah, you'd think we'd know not to hope by now."

''''''''''

"I want to name her."

Everyone looked Lydia as she laid there, her tone void of any emotion.

"Honey," Natalie said, squeezing her hand. "You don't have to. Before twenty-four weeks, they don't issue any certificates – "

"I don't care," she told her mother. There was some heat in her voice as she said it, despite the fact that she was beginning to feel numb. "I want to give her a name. It's harder to forget someone if you know their name."

"You're never going to forget her," her mom assured.

"Then let's give her a name so we can make sure," Lydia snapped.

"Okay," Stiles nodded, shifting so he could look at her. "I want to name her, too."

"Addyson?" Lydia asked, looking at him. "I've always loved the name Addyson. I know we didn't get too much of a chance to talk about it, but it was one of my favorites."

Stiles gave her a small smile, nodding as he cupped her cheek. "I love that."

"Addyson Claudia Stilinski," she said, nodding at how it sounded. "That's her name."

"It's beautiful," her mom said thickly, giving her daughter a smile.

John pulled out his wallet, grabbing a pen out of his shirt pocket. "Perfect name for a perfect girl."

She watched as he pulled out the picture she gave him of her last sonogram, writing on the back of it.

"We might not have a certificate," he said, his voice shaking. "But it's written down."

She nodded, curling as much as she could into Stiles with all the wires around her, as well as not wanting to rip her stitches. Now that her daughter had a name, she felt even more exhausted than before.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart," Natalie told her, kissing her temple.

Nodding again, Lydia closed her eyes. She didn't say that she was wishing that she would wake up and realize that this was all a bad dream.

* * *

 **Oh my God. I can't even explain to you guys how much it hurt to write this. I've said that I wanted to make this story realistic to their world, and as much as it breaks my heart, this is something that could happen that hasn't really been explored. So I know you guys hate me right now, because I hate myself, but I just wanted you guys to know where I'm coming from on this. You can yell at me all you want, I deserve it.**


	20. Chapter 20

**So...I definitely got yelled at last week! No, I was surprised at how many people were so invested in this story, and I wanted to let you know that even though a lot of you were yelling at me, I still appreciate the feedback, as well as from the people who were understanding about it.**

* * *

"What do you mean he's dead?"

"They called me last night," Chris explained. They were in the loft, everyone except for Stiles and Lydia, waiting for the hunter to explain. "He was shot in the head, but they don't have any record of visitors."

"It was Kate, wasn't it?" Malia asked, her eyes wide in realization. "She's here."

"I think so," he nodded.

Scott looked between them, feeling out of the loop. What the hell did they know that he didn't? "Kate's here?"

Chris narrowed his eyes at him. "Nobody told you?"

"We only found out last night," Braeden explained. "Things have been a little crazy the past twelve hours or so."

"That's why Lydia went into the fugue state," Scott said. "She was going to find him."

"What do you mean?" Chris asked. Scott remembered that he had only gotten there a few minutes ago. They hadn't had a chance to tell him. "What's going on?"

There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at each other, trying to decide who would say it. Nobody wanted to bring them back to that reality.

"Lydia lost the baby last night," Derek finally spoke up, his voice tight. "Car accident."

A long sigh left Chris' mouth as he sat down on the couch, running his hand down his face. "How are they?"

"As good as can be expected," Malia said.

"And how about you guys?" he asked.

"What about us?" Isaac asked, trying too hard to be nonchalant.

"You guys lost the baby, too," he said. "That's not an easy thing, especially in a Pack."

"As well as can be expected," Scott told him. It still felt raw, and open. He felt like he had lost a limb, and it was his own fault.

"I'm sorry," Chris said. "I really am. They shouldn't know what it feels like to lose a child, not this young."

A heavy silence hung in the air, everyone knowing that he knew exactly what it felt like to lose a child.

"We should get to school," Isaac suggested after a few minutes. "We all have tests today."

Scott didn't even want to think about school right now. The only test he had today was for AP Biology, and he couldn't think of that class without thinking of the small heartbeat that accompanied his teacher's lectures as well as his study sessions. The heartbeat of a growing Pack member.

A heartbeat that didn't beat anymore.

"I'll meet you guys there," Scott told them.

Malia and Isaac nodded and went for the door, but Kira stayed for a moment, taking his hand. "You okay?"

"No," Scott admitted quietly. "I don't think any of us are. But we still have things we need to do. I'll be there, I promise."

Kira nodded, leaning in to give him a short kiss. "I'll see you in a little bit."

"Yeah."

She left, and Scott sat on the couch.

"How are you?" Chris asked.

"Not good," Scott told him. "But better than Lydia and Stiles right now."

"Is Lydia okay?" he asked. "Other than the baby."

"She has a lot of cuts and bruises, and she had some internal bleeding. But they took care of that and now she just has to heal." Scott looked at his hands. "She was really lucky to not have anything broken. It was really bad. Her car's totaled."

"And the other car?"

"Drove off before I could do anything," he said. "I was flung off of my bike because I stopped too fast."

"I should go see them," Chris said, standing up.

"I think they would really appreciate that," Scott told him. "I should probably get to school. If I miss my biology test, Lydia's going to kill me."

''''''''''

Stiles jerked awake, looking around the hospital room. Natalie was asleep on the other side of the bed, her jacket draped over her like a blanket. He sat in the second chair in the room, only leaving the bed because the nurses told him that he couldn't stay in the bed all night. At least they had seemed sorry about it.

He picked up his jacket that had fallen off of him onto the floor, wondering where his dad was. His eyes landed on Lydia, who was fast asleep, the monitor beeping steadily with her heartbeat. She looked so peaceful when she slept. So unaffected by the shit-storm that their life had become. Her hand rested on her stomach protectively, the bump smaller, but still there – of course it would still be there – and his throat tightened when he remembered that there was nothing there for her to protect anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his eyes furiously to try to stop from crying again. He had already cried so much the night before, he shouldn't be able to cry anymore.

A hand rested on his shoulder, giving it a firm, comforting squeeze. He looked up to see Chris Argent looking at him with the most compassion he'd ever seen on the man's face.

"Mr. Argent?" he asked, his voice low so he wouldn't wake up the Martins. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with the Calaveras."

"I was," Chris told him. "I am. I looked at what Braeden sent me and decided that I needed to be here."

"Yeah?" Stiles asked, happy for a distraction. "What'd you find?"

"It's not important right –"

"Yeah it is," Stiles told him. "It's very important. Because whoever it is, they're after my best friend. I need to know."

The older man sighed, sitting in the chair next to him. "The bank account was my father's."

Stiles felt his eyes widen as he stared. "Gerard?"

Of course it would be Gerard, why didn't he figure that out? Gerard wouldn't go after Scott himself simply for the fact that he physically couldn't. It made perfect sense.

Chris nodded. "Yeah. But now he's dead."

"What?"

"They called me last night," he explained. "He had been shot."

"Who would do that?" Stiles asked.

"His daughter."

There was a beat of silence as he let that sink in. " _Kate's_ here?"

"It looks like it," Chris nodded. "It makes sense. They both want Scott dead, but he would refuse to work with her now that she's something that he despises."

"So she needs him out of the way," Stiles added with a nod. "So now we have to worry about Kate. Again."

"I'm sorry," Chris said. "You shouldn't have to deal with this. Not right now."

"No, it's okay," he assured, running a hand through his hair. "I need to know."

"Mr. Argent?"

Both of them looked to the bed, Lydia blinking blearily as she lifted she looked at the older man.

"Hey," he said, standing up and going to the side of the bed, crouching down to her level. He took her hand and squeezed it. Stiles couldn't see his face, but Lydia gave him a small smile.

"You're not gonna ask me if I'm okay?" she asked, her voice cracking from disuse. "That's what everyone else has been doing."

"I already know the answer," Chris told her.

There was a rustling from the other side of the bed as Natalie woke up.

"Chris?" she said, after clearing her throat. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said.

There was a few seconds of silence before Natalie stood up. "I'm going to go get some coffee. Do you need anything, sweetheart?"

Lydia shook her head. "I'm okay."

She nodded, looking to Stiles with a questioning look.

"I'm good," he said. "I'll get something in a little bit."

Natalie left, adjusting her dress as she walked.

"I'm so sorry, Lydia," Mr. Argent told her. "You shouldn't know what this feels like."

"It must've been worse for you," Lydia told him. "After actually having your own daughter in your life."

"It was a girl?" he asked, his voice soft. Stiles couldn't help the tears that sprung to his eyes as Lydia nodded. Couldn't help the feeling the hollow feeling that he'd been experiencing since last night worsen.

"It's not worse," Chris told her after a moment. "It's just different."

There was a pause as Chris sighed, looking back at Stiles for a moment before bringing his gaze back to Lydia. Stiles made his way to sit on the bed, resting his hand on Lydia's leg.

"Allison was supposed to be a big sister," he admitted after a moment. "She was only a couple of years old when Victoria got pregnant. She doesn't…didn't…remember her mother losing it. But I do know what you guys are going through."

Stiles looked at Chris, adding in his mind just another loss that the man had experienced. His wife, his daughter, his father, another child that he never got a chance to meet – just like Stiles and Lydia. This man had lost so much and was still able to function. But Stiles wasn't sure whether he would be able to fully function after this.

"How did you get through it?" Stiles asked. "How were you able to move on?"

"First of all: you don't move on," Chris told him. "You never move on. You'll always remember. You'll still have bad days. But it does get easier to breathe, just like with any loss. It just takes time."

"Thank you," Lydia told him. "For coming. For everything. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," he said with a smile.

Lydia gave him another small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. It pained Stiles to see that.

Her brow furrowed, as if she was trying to remember something. "What were you saying about Gerard?"

''''''''''

Malia closed her locker, thankful that she had just finished her last test for the day, and winter break had officially begun. She made her way through the crowd in the hallway, determined to get out of there and down to the hospital. Now that Kate was back, both Scott and Lydia needed protection. Lydia because she was weak and injured, and Scott because he was the target.

"Hey!" Isaac called, easily catching up to her. "Are you going to see Lydia?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Someone needs to be with her. Who knows if Kate will try anything or not? You should go with Scott and make sure nothing happens."

"He's with Kira," Isaac told her. "He'll be fine."

Malia gave him a pointed look. "The last time Kate was here and they were alone together, Kate took him to Mexico and made him a Berserker. But of course you wouldn't know that because you were having fun in Paris."

"I knew, thank you very much," Isaac snapped, grabbing her arm and stopping her. His eyes were filled with fire. "They're on their way to Derek's to make a game-plan. Scott told me to go with you to see Stiles and Lydia."

She looked at him, confused. Why would he get so mad at her for saying that? It's not like he hasn't said anything about what she didn't know.

"Why are you pissed at me?" she asked. "It's okay for you to say whatever the fuck you want about me, but I say one thing about you and you freak out?"

"Just come on."

They made their way to Malia's car, getting in, but Malia didn't start the car yet. It felt awkward to be around him since her confession last night. She was hoping that he had forgotten about it after everything that had happened, but she smelled the awkwardness on him and knew that her hope was false.

"I wasn't 'having fun' in Paris," he told her darkly. "I was trying to escape."

"Escape what?" she asked, frustrated. He was always making vague comments, and she was sick of it. "You always say shit like that, but I don't know what you mean by any of it!"

"You wanna know what I was escaping?" he asked heatedly, his anger flaring as his voice rose in volume. "The majority of my life has been a living hell, that's what I was escaping! My mom died when I was young, my brother died in combat, and somehow my father found a way to always blame me! He locked me in a freezer in the basement every time I did something remotely wrong, up until the day he was killed!"

She looked at him, shocked. Both at his words and his behavior.

And she thought living alone as a coyote was bad.

"If that wasn't bad enough," he continued. "They thought that I did it because of what he did to me, and Derek and Scott had to help me out of it. The messed up part is I still miss him, even after the hell he put me through, because at one point he was actually a really good dad."

"That's what you were escaping?" she asked.

"Part of it," he nodded. "I was okay after my dad died, because I still had my pack. Derek's Pack. But then Erica and Boyd died, and Derek shut me out. I know now that it was to protect me. But I went to Scott, and he took me in. So did Allison."

Realization hit her as she saw the look in his eyes and took in his chemo-signals. "You loved her."

"Yeah," he admitted, finally calming down some. "She died before we had much of a chance to be anything, but the feelings were still there. When Chris left, I went with him because there's too much loss in this town, and I couldn't handle it. I thought that I could now, that's why I came back. But now I know that I was wrong."

"How do you know that?" she asked. "It hasn't even been a day, and you're ready to throw in the towel? Losing people hurts, Isaac, that's just life. We're all hurting right now. And yeah, maybe we've lost more than the normal person, but you've got people that are here for you. I know that you didn't heal while you were in Paris. I didn't know why, but I could tell. You've gotten a lot better since being here, Isaac. Don't leave now. If not for you, than for Lydia and Stiles."

"I never said that I was gonna leave," Isaac told her. "I know it didn't work."

Without thinking, she took his hand that was resting on the console. "Then stay. If there's one thing that I've learned since I've shifted back, it's that it's okay to hurt. Just don't let it consume you."

Isaac looked at their hands for a moment before looking up at her. "Okay."

She squeezed his hand before letting go, finally starting the car. "We should get to the hospital."

''''''''''

Lydia stayed silent as Melissa checked her vitals. Natalie had gone home to get a change of clothes, and Stiles had went to get something to eat.

She'd barely talked since Mr. Argent left, despite Stiles and her mother trying to engage her in conversation. She had forced herself to talk to Chris, but that conversation had taken all her desire to talk.

In a way it helped to know that he understood, but it didn't help the fact that Addyson was gone.

Nothing would help that fact.

"All right, sweetie," Melissa said. "Everything looks good."

She nodded. "Thanks."

"Do you think that you could eat something?" Melissa asked, gesturing to the food on the table. "I know Jell-O's not much, but you can't have solid food, yet."

"I'm not hungry," she said.

"Sweetheart," Melissa sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You need to eat. You'll get better faster that way. Get out of here sooner. As much as I love to see your beautiful face, I want you well."

"I don't want anything," Lydia told her, looking at her hands.

With a nod, Melissa handed her the glass of water, giving her a pointed look. "At least stay hydrated, okay?"

"Okay." She took a drink, watching as Melissa nodded again in satisfaction.

"I have to go finish my rounds," Melissa told her. "But if you need anything, let me know, All right?"

"Of course," Lydia told her.

Malia came over from the corner of the room, sitting next to the bed as Melissa left. "She's right you know."

"I know," Lydia said. "But I don't think I could handle anything on my stomach right now. Even if it's just Jell-O."

"Okay," Malia nodded.

Lydia looked at her friend, deciding the change the subject. She could use a distraction. "So what's going on with you and Isaac?"

Malia's gaze snapped to her with wide eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There's obviously something between you two," Lydia insisted. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Malia told her much too quickly. Lydia raised an eyebrow at her, and the girl sighed. "I don't know. We've been flirting – at least, I think we've been flirting – but he pulls away whenever we get close to doing something more."

"He's kind of had a rough love life," Lydia told her.

"I know," Malia nodded. "He uh…he told me about Allison."

"Oh," she said. "So you understand why he might be hesitant?"

"Yeah," Malia replied with a sigh.

"But?"

"He left because everything reminded him of what he's lost – which included her – right?" she asked. "So now that I know, I…I can't help but think that maybe he only likes me because I…don't remind him of Allison? It's stupid I know, but I can't help but think that."

"As much as I hate to say it," Lydia said. "It is a valid worry. But I don't think that's the case."

"How do you know?" Malia asked.

"Because Isaac doesn't work like that," Lydia assured. "But maybe you should talk to him about it."

"Yeah, because we've been so good at talking so far."

Lydia shrugged. "That's something you need to work on."

''''''''''

Stiles picked at the cafeteria sandwich, not really hungry, but knowing that he needed to keep his strength up.

Someone sat in the chair across from him, and he looked up to see his best friend.

"Scott?" he said, perking up a little bit. He hadn't seen his best friend since last night. When he punched him in the face. "Scott, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over –"

"It's okay," Scott interrupted. "I get it. I mean, it is my fault."

"No, it's not," Stiles told him. "None of it is your fault. It's not."

"That's what everyone keeps saying," he said, shaking his head. "But I know it's not true. I'm the Alpha. I'm supposed to be able to protect you guys, and I couldn't –"

"Scott!" Stiles said firmly. "You may be an Alpha, but that doesn't mean you can magically protect everybody. You couldn't have known what was going to happen, Scott. You stayed with her. You did everything you could."

"It wasn't good enough," Scott said. "It's never good enough."

"It's good enough all the time," he insisted. "But, Scott…as much as we all hate it…we can't save everybody."

"I should've saved her."

They were both silent as they tried to keep control over their emotions. It was so unfair, this whole situation. They should be excited for the baby shower, getting the nursery together. But none of that was going to happen now.

"We named her," Stiles said thickly after a few moments. "Addyson Claudia."

"I love it," Scott told him, giving him a watery smile. "It's beautiful."

Stiles nodded. "I think so. Uh…Argent told me about Gerard and Kate."

"Yeah," Scott said.

"How did she get someone to heal her?" Stiles asked.

His best friend shrugged. "I don't know. But now we have to deal with her now. I'm not sure what's worse."

"At least with Kate, we know what we're dealing with," he supplied.

"True," Scott nodded. "I just wish that we could have a break, you know?"

"Yeah," Stiles sighed. "Me, too."

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	21. Chapter 21

Stiles was slammed into the ground, groaning as pain radiated from his back.

"I think that's enough for today."

Derek held out his hand, and Stiles took it as he stood back up. "

"You know," he said, grabbing his water. "One of these days I'm going to beat you."

"I highly doubt that," Derek told him. "But it's a good goal."

It had been almost a month since the accident, and Stiles was still getting fighting lessons. He still needed to know how to fight, didn't he?

"Has Lydia said anything about starting up again?" Derek asked as they made their way back into the living room.

"No," Stiles told him. "But to be fair, she hasn't really talked much at all."

"It's going to be rough for a while," Derek said, stopping to look at him. "She's grieving, and so are you. Just because you're doing it differently, doesn't meant that either of you are doing it wrong."

He nodded. "I know. But she hasn't been talking to anyone, and it's starting to worry me. I mean, I know it's completely different what she went through, but she really needs to talk about it with somebody. I don't care if it's not me, I just want her to talk about it."

"You're not really talking about it that much, either," Derek pointed out.

"I've talked to my dad some," Stiles assured him. "But Natalie said that Lydia refuses to talk to her, and she's not talking to anyone else I ask, either. She's not eating, she doesn't look like she's sleeping. It's scaring me."

"She has to get through it in her own time," Derek said.

Stiles took a long drink before responding. "I'm just worried."

"That's okay."

They made their way back into the living room, Stiles pausing at the stack of boxes that had appeared since they started training.

Braeden was sitting on the couch, reading some kind of file, but she looked up and made eye contact with Derek. There was a meaningful look between them, and Stiles instantly grew suspicious.

"What's with the boxes?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at them.

"It's nothing," Derek said dismissively. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" Stiles said. "Are you embarrassed to tell me? Is it for some kind of BDSM dungeon or some shit? Not that I'm judging, just curious."

"It's not that," Derek told him. "It's the wrong address."

Derek went into the kitchen, and Stiles made his way over to the boxes, reading the label. "It says Derek Hale."

He looked on the side of one of the boxes, his heart dropping as he saw a picture of a crib. The exact handmade, ornate crib that Lydia had fallen in love with.

"I, uh, that was supposed to be my gift to you guys," Derek explained, making his way over. "I had ordered them before…"

Stiles' throat tightened as tears filled his eyes. It was ridiculous how much the gesture touched him. "That's amazing, Derek. Thank you. I –"

"Don't mention it," Derek insisted. "Please. I'm going to send them back. Just…please don't tell Lydia. I didn't want anyone to know."

"No, uh," Stiles ran a hand over his face. "I won't. I should…I should get going."

Derek nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Stiles said his goodbye to Braeden, who gave him a sympathetic glance as he left.

He made it all the way down the stairs before the tears started falling. Clambering into the Jeep, he tried to control the sobs, but it was no use.

He missed her. He missed her _so fucking much._ How could he miss someone so much that he never even got to meet?

Yes, when he first found out that Lydia was pregnant, he was terrified. He hadn't been ready to be a father, and he was scared that he wouldn't be a good one. But now? Now he would do anything to be a dad. Anything to have a reason to take those boxes in Derek's loft and spend hours trying to put everything together because he was too stubborn to read the directions, only admitting defeat when Lydia would call his dad in to help him. Anything to be able to hold his little girl in his arms.

He didn't know how long he cried, but when he was finally able to stop, the sun had set. He took a few deep breaths to calm down, wiping his eyes. Putting the car in drive, he pulled out of the parking lot.

''''''''''

Lydia stared at her Biology textbook, trying to find the motivation to pick it up and read it. Usually she would be enthralled in the content, but she just wasn't feeling it. She hadn't been feeling it for a few weeks.

With a sigh, she pushed it away and laid down on her bed, closing her eyes to calm the pounding behind her eyelids. She had spent too long on the computer, translating the bestiary. Over winter break, she had decided to permanently translate it so she wasn't the only one who could read it. Scott had insisted that it wasn't necessary at the time, but she had decided to do it anyway.

Anything to keep her mind off of what she was missing.

There was a knock on the door, and Lydia quickly sat back up and opened her textbook. "Come in."

Her mother poked her head in, the smell of food wafting in with her. It turned Lydia's stomach.

"Are you hungry?" Natalie asked, hope on her features that Lydia knew she would have to crush. "I got udon. It's your favorite."

"Thanks, Mom," she said, mustering a small smile. "But I'm really not hungry right now."

"When was the last time you ate?" her mom asked, entering the room completely.

"I ate a snack when you were running errands," Lydia lied easily. Truthfully, she had gone down to the kitchen only because she knew she needed to eat something before her blood sugar dropped too low. She had grabbed a package of cheese-filled crackers, but as she was grabbing it, she saw the giant jar of peanut butter that hadn't been touched since the accident. She had lost any desire to eat and her crackers were currently in her desk drawer.

Natalie nodded, her expression torn.

"What do you want to say, Mom?" she asked. Lydia knew that she was worried, but she had been walking on eggshells for weeks, not wanting to set Lydia off.

Last time Natalie had really talked to her, she had suggested going to a therapist. Lydia had refused, but when her mom kept pushing Lydia went off on her, yelling and screaming, saying that she didn't want help because she didn't. She just wanted her daughter back. She wanted to know why it had to happen that way. She wanted to know why Kate hadn't struck yet. There were more important things than the fact that it would help if she talked to someone.

But Natalie had barely talked to her since then, and all it did was make her feel guilty.

"Mom," she said. "What do you want to say? I'm open to it."

"I'm worried about you, sweetheart," her mom admitted. "I really am. You're not sleeping, you're barely eating – don't say that you are, because I know that you're not – you're closing yourself off. You need to talk to somebody. It doesn't have to be me, and it doesn't have to be a professional, but you need to talk to someone."

Lydia looked down at her hands, trying not to snap at her mother. "I'm fine. It's not like I've spent the whole winter break doing nothing. I'm productive, I'm doing things. What more do you expect of me? To be happy? To be completely okay?"

"Of course not," Natalie told her.

"Than just let me grieve," she said. "Just because I'm grieving differently than you doesn't mean I'm doing it wrong."

"Okay," her mom said. "But you still need to eat, or you're gonna waste away, and I…I wouldn't be able to handle that."

Lydia sighed, forcing herself to get out of her bed. "Fine. I'll do what I can. But I can't promise a lot."

"I'm not asking you, too, honey," Natalie said, a warm smile on her face. "Just your best."

Lydia made her way to the kitchen, redoing her ponytail as she walked. She should probably take a shower, it had been a few days. With school starting again tomorrow, she needed to make herself look somewhat presentable.

She grabbed the udon, sitting down and forcing herself to take a few bites as her mother watched, eating her own take-out.

"This is good," Lydia said after a moment. Really good. She couldn't remember the last time she had real food. Most of the time, it was rummaging through the snacks, eating crackers, pop-tarts, and popcorn. She knew that's why she could already fit into her old clothes. It wasn't very healthy, but she had completely lost her appetite in the last month.

"I'm glad," Natalie told her. "Just eat as much as you can handle, okay?"

Lydia just nodded, taking another bite of her food.

It didn't take long for her to have enough, and she closed the container with a snap. "I'm gonna go take a shower. School's tomorrow."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," her mom told her. "I'm sure I can get you excused."

"No," Lydia said. "I already missed my mid-term, I don't wanna miss more."

"Okay," her mother nodded.

Making her way upstairs, Lydia couldn't help her hand going to her stomach. Pulling it away quickly, she balled it into a fist. She had to stop doing that. There was nothing there anymore.

Logically, she knew that it would get easier. This wasn't the first time she had lost someone. She knew how grief worked. But this felt worse than any other loss that she had felt before. It made sense, considering as much as she had lost, she had never lost a child. Now that she had, she didn't know how anyone did it.

Mr. Argent had been raised to deal with his emotions differently, and from what she remembered about Victoria, she had probably been raised similarly. Lydia hadn't had that luxury. As much as she tried, she felt everything. She had learned to deal with the loss of a family member, the loss of a friend. But this was uncharted territory, and she didn't know how to handle it.

''''''''''

Malia sat in History, ignoring the stare that she felt. She knew exactly who was staring at her, and she didn't want to talk to him.

The bell rang, and she was one of the first ones up, making her way out of the door quickly. He followed her, easily catching up with her.

"Hey, are we still on as study buddies?" Isaac asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I guess."

"Is there a reason you're ignoring me?" he asked, gently grabbing her arm to stop her. "You haven't talked to me all winter break, and now you're all but ignoring me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Malia told him. "I've just…I've been dealing with everything. But if you still wanna study, we can."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and she knew that he heard her heartbeat. "Look, if you don't want to, that's fine. But don't lie to me."

"I'm not," she insisted. She really had been dealing with a lot, but that's not the reason that she was avoiding him. "Let's just go to lunch."

'''''''''

Lydia felt Stiles' hand rest on her knee, squeezing gently.

"You okay?" he asked softly. She barely heard him over the din of the cafeteria.

"Fine," she told him. "Why?"

"You kinda spaced there," he told her, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she told him. "I'm just…I'm on edge. Why would Kate wait this long?"

He shrugged, taking a deep breath. "I don't know. But it's making me nervous, too."

"I noticed," she said, looking down at his bouncing knee.

Scott sat down at the table, giving both of them a small smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Stiles said.

Lydia felt Scott's eyes on her as she turned back to her food. She ignored it, trying to make herself force down the cafeteria lunch and failing. It was unappetizing on a normal day.

"Hey, Lydia?" Scott asked, almost hesitant.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking back up.

"Do you want to get together and study tonight?" he asked. "I mean, we don't have to, it's only the first day, but Mrs. Finch is already talking about a test –"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Sounds great. What time?"

"I get off from the clinic at seven," he told her. "So, seven-thirty?"

"Sounds good to me," she said, forcing a small smile. It really didn't. She didn't want to do anything with anybody, but Scott needed her. Besides, if she wanted to get better, than she would have to do normal things.

"Great."

"What's great?" Malia asked, sitting down on the other side of Lydia, Isaac sitting by Scott.

"Studying," Scott answered, taking a bite of his food.

She made a face at him. "You and I have different definitions of 'great.'"

"It's not so bad when you have someone to study with," Isaac offered, a smirk on his face.

Malia just shrugged. "I guess."

Lydia didn't miss Isaac's face fall slightly before he focused on his food. She looked at Malia with a raised eyebrow, but the girl simply shrugged again. Something was definitely going on there, and it wasn't good.

"I should probably get going," Lydia said, pushing away her tray.

"Where are you going?" Malia asked, her brow furrowed.

"I have that appointment with the surgeon," she explained. "To check how the incision's healed and such."

"You sure you don't want me to go with you?" Stiles asked her.

"I don't want you to miss class," she told him. "I'll be okay."

"Okay," Stiles nodded as she got up. "I love you."

"Love you, too," she said, giving him a short kiss on the cheek.

'''''''''

Stiles slammed his locker shut, ready for the day to be over. He hadn't heard from Lydia about how the appointment went, but at this point he wasn't really expecting to. She barely contacted him anymore – atleast, not about the important things – and he didn't know how to feel about it.

She was hurting, he knew that. He understood that – he was hurting too. But the difference was that she wasn't willing to talk about it and process her grief. He hated talking about it, too, but he knew that he needed to. After having random panic attacks for a week after the accident, he realized how important it was that he talk to someone. Even then, he still had to fight them. Apparently, that's just how he dealt with grief. But every time he would try to talk to Lydia about it, she would shut down, change the subject, anything to keep from talking about it.

Now he felt her starting to pull away from him, and he didn't know what to do.

"Stilinski!"

He jumped as Coach made his way over to him.

"Hey, Coach," he greeted.

"Do you have a second?" Finstock asked.

Stiles nodded. "Sure."

They made their way to Coach Finstock's office down the hall, Finstock closing the door as Stiles sat down.

"What's up?" he asked, looking at his teacher as the man leaned on the edge of his desk.

"I wanted to see how you were holding up," Coach explained. "I know you've been through a rough few weeks, and I wanted to see how you were handling it."

Stiles sat there for a moment, not sure what to say. Finstock never cared about his student's personal lives – atleast, he never acted like he did. But Stiles thought he saw something resembling compassion on Coach's features, and couldn't help the way his throat tightened.

Clearing his throat, he tried his best to answer. "Um, well, obviously everything's not perfect, but I'm doing pretty okay, I think."

"That's good," Finstock nodded. "That's good."

"Yeah," Stiles said. "And, uh, thank you again for coming to the hospital. That really meant a lot."

A couple of days after the accident, Finstock had come to visit Lydia, and Stiles was pretty sure that he was there to see how Natalie was, as well. They were apparently friends. (Stiles didn't even know that Coach _did_ friends.) But Finstock had been there for everyone involved, bringing food and emotional support (another thing that Stiles didn't know that he did.)

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving Stiles off. "I know how tough this all has to be, especially at your age, and I just…I worry about you guys."

"I really appreciate it," Stiles told him. "But, uh…I'm okay. Getting there."

"What about Lydia?" Finstock asked.

He opened his mouth to reply, but he honestly didn't know what to say. He knew that she wasn't okay. But he didn't know how _not_ okay she was, because she wouldn't talk to him.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "She won't talk to me about it. She won't talk to anyone about it."

"It's hard," Finstock told him. "She'll cope in her own way, at her own pace, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Stiles said, not helping the edge his tone. He wanted to be understanding, and he didn't want to push her, but goddammit, he needed her. He needed her to be there. He needed her to admit that she wasn't okay so he didn't feel so alone. He had people that he could talk to, but it wasn't the same. Lydia and him were going to be parents only to have it taken away from then, and that was a special loss that only she could relate with. He needed that, but she wouldn't give it to him.

"Hey," Coach said, catching his eye again. "I know you're there for her, because I know you. But I also realize that she's not the only one who's grieving. So if you need anything, you let me know, okay? I'm not kidding about that.

"Thank you," Stiles told him. "I, uh, I should probably get going, though. I have to get to work."

Finstock nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. "Okay, kid. Have a good one."

"You, too," Stiles said.

''''''''''

Malia couldn't concentrate. She was too busy being distracted by Scott and Lydia. Mostly Lydia.

The girl's whole demeanor had changed in the past few weeks, and it was really starting to bother Malia. She watched as Lydia's shoulders were hunched forward, and how her confidence had all but evaporated as much as she tried to hide it. Maybe that's what bothered her so much. That Lydia was so obviously not okay – for good reason – but she tried to pretend that everything was okay.

She didn't even talk about the Biology with passion, which she had always done, no matter how simple the material. Scott and Kira had to have noticed. Lydia seemed almost…apathetic? It was strange. And her chemo-signals reeked. She couldn't place the emotion, but it was pretty strong.

"Are you going to even try?"

A book slammed shut, and Malia brought her attention back to Isaac.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly. "I was just a little distracted."

"By what?" Isaac asked, his brow furrowing. "We're on completely different floors from the other study group."

It was true. Scott, Kira, and Lydia were in the living room, while Isaac and Malia were in his room. She couldn't help but remember last time she had studied in someone's bedroom, and what it usually led to…

Which is why she was sitting on the floor while he sat on the bed.

"I know," she said. "But I can't help worrying about Lydia, you know? She's not talking about everything, and I know from experience that it's just going to hurt her."

"I know," he nodded. "I'm worried, too."

"And have to smelled her chemo-signals?" she asked. "I can't even pinpoint what emotion they smell like. I've never smelled it before."

Isaac shrugged, tapping the end of his pencil on his lip absentmindedly. "I don't know, either. But we can't push her, you know? I mean, this is a lot. She's lost people, but her own kid? That's gotta be so much worse."

"But what about Stiles?" she asked, insistent. "He lost Addyson, too, but he doesn't have the support he obviously needs from Lydia. It's almost painful to watch them together now. They seem so…strained."

"We can't worry about it too much," he told her. "It's not going to help anything."

"But I can't just _not_ worry," she admitted. "They're my Pack."

While it had taken her a while to warm up to the idea of a pack when she first became human again, she didn't know what she would do without it anymore.

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. "But just because they're Pack, doesn't mean that they don't still have a right to privacy. You can worry all you want, but it doesn't mean that you can help them if they don't want you to."

She watched him as his expression grew serious, looking down at his closed book.

"Is that what happened with Derek?" she asked, curious. "He wouldn't let you help him?"

"Some of it," he admitted. "He pushed me away after Boyd died. Kicked me out. I know now that it was to protect me, but at the time I just wanted to help. I was the only beta left, you know? But he didn't want to risk the chance of me dying, too, so he refused my help."

"That must've been hard," she said. She couldn't imagine how she'd fell if Scott did something like that to her, and she wasn't even turned by him. "But everything's okay with you guys now?"

"Yeah," Isaac nodded. "We're good."

"So why didn't you move back in with him?"

Isaac looked at her for a moment, as if he was trying to think. "I was living here. I liked it. Melissa was already more like a parent to me than my dad really ever was, at least after my brother died. Besides, Derek had taken Cora to South America to take care of some things, so he wasn't at the loft anyway."

Shifting to lean back against the bed, her brow furrowed as she tried to remember who Cora was. "That's his sister, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Your cousin."

"I don't really use the Hale name," she said, fidgeting with her pencil.

"So?" he asked. "I don't have the same name as every single one of my relatives. Derek should get her to come visit. I think you'd like her."

"Like I liked you?" she asked, looking up at him. She then realized how close their faces were, and couldn't help her gaze drifting down to his lips as he smirked.

"That's up to you," he told her softly. "I mean, you grew to _love_ me."

"Love's a strong word," she told him, snapping her gaze back to his eyes. "Tolerate is more accurate."

He shifted closer, his shoulders level with the edge of the bed. "Tolerate? I think you do more than tolerate me."

She felt her heartrate speed up, cursing to herself as his smirk widened. "No, tolerate is the word I'm looking for."

They looked at each other for a moment, and Malia felt like she couldn't breathe. The urge to close the distance between them was getting stronger with each passing second, and her heart was about to beat out of her chest.

She didn't know how to handle this. With Stiles, it had been so easy. He liked her, she liked him, he kissed her, and that was all it took. Yes, they didn't work out, but there had been no guessing with him. No doubts. Looking at Isaac, she had nothing but doubts. Why did he like her? _Did_ he like her? He never actually told her if he did or not, even after she admitted it herself.

Malia jumped when the front door slammed, pulling them both out of the moment.

"Malia! Isaac! Pizza's here!"

Malia immediately stood up, refusing to look Isaac in the eye. "We should go eat. I'm starving."

Clearing his throat, Isaac stood up as well. "Yeah, okay. Me, too."

She quickly made her way out of the room, willing her heart to stop its rapid beating.

She like Isaac, she liked him a lot. It was crazy how much she like him.

But nothing was happening until she knew what was going on that head of his.

* * *

 **I know there wasn't a whole lot going in this one, so depending on how much writing I can get done in the next few days, I'll try and post on Saturday.**

 **As always, I love to know what you think!**


	22. Chapter 22

**I told you that I might update today, and I got a lot of writing done, so here we are!**

* * *

Lydia made her way to the kitchen as Melissa set down the boxes of pizza. Scott and Kira were already in there, grabbing plates and napkins.

"Hey, Sweetheart!" Melissa said, opening the boxes. "How are you?"

"Good!" she nodded, trying her best to give a convincing smile. She had always been good at it. "How about you?"

"Good," Melissa told her. Once she was done with the boxes, she walked over to Lydia and pulled her into a tight hug. Lydia hugged her back, taking comfort in the woman's warmth.

After a moment, Melissa pulled away, rubbing her hand down Lydia's arm. She raised an eyebrow in question, and Lydia simply nodded.

"Smells good!" Isaac said following Malia into the kitchen. "Thanks, Melissa."

Melissa waved him off. "Honey, you don't have to thank me."

Everyone grabbed some pizza, sitting at the table. Lydia didn't miss the tension between Malia and Isaac as she picked at her pizza, and it seemed to have grown since lunch. Catching her eye, Lydia tilted her head towards Isaac and gave her a questioning look. Malia shrugged, turning back to her pizza. Lydia looked to Kira, who had the same questioning look on her face, staring at Lydia with a raised eyebrow.

After they were done with the pizza, Lydia took Malia by the arm and led her to the back porch, Kira following.

"What is going on with you and Isaac?" Lydia asked, whispering so they couldn't overhear.

"What do you mean?" Malia asked.

"You can cut the sexual tension with a knife," Kira said. "And I can't even smell that kind of thing. How are you so oblivious that he's attracted to you?"

"She's not," Lydia told her. "She knows full well. Why haven't you talked to him?"

Malia shrugged. "It hasn't come up."

"It's not going to come up!" Lydia said. "That's not just something that 'comes up.' You have to bring it up."

"How do I bring that up?"

"Bring what up?" Kira asked, looking between the two girls in confusion. "What's going on?"

"Malia thinks that the only reason that Isaac likes her is because she doesn't remind him of Allison," Lydia explained.

"I do not!" Malia said frustrated. "I just think that it might be a possibility."

"Then talk to him about it!" Lydia told her.

"Like you're one to talk!" Malia quipped. "You can't even talk to your own boyfriend!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, growing defensive. "Stiles and I are very communicative."

"Really?" Malia asked. "Then why is he feeling like he doesn't have any support from you? Why does he feel like you don't even care about what he's going through?"

Lydia's chest tightened. "Did he tell you that?"

"He doesn't have to," she answered. "It's obvious."

"I think I would know if it was so obvious," Lydia spat, her anger igniting. Of course she would know if her boyfriend was having issues. Yes, they hadn't been talking as much, but if something was really wrong, he would tell her. That's how they worked. She would know… "I would know."

"Then maybe you should ask him," Malia told her. "All I know is that you weren't the only one who lost Addyson, but you sure as hell acting like you are. Your boyfriend – the father of your child – is hurting just as much as you are, and you don't seem to give a shit!"

There was a resounding crack as Lydia's hand made contact with Malia's cheek.

Malia held her cheek, looking down as her face hardened. Lydia stepped back, looking between Malia and Kira, who stood there in shock.

Quickly, Lydia made her way inside, walking right past everyone as tears built in her eyes.

"Lydia!" Kira called after her, not far behind. "Lydia, wait!"

But she was ignored as Lydia grabbed her bag and made her way out the door, her vision blurring with tears.

"Lydia!"

She finally slowed down as she reached her car, turning around to face Melissa.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I just…I can't deal with this right now."

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Melissa asked, taking Lydia's hand.

Lydia shook her head. "It doesn't matter, I just…I need to clear my head. Be alone for a while, okay?"

Melissa studied her for a minute. "Why don't you come inside and we can –"

"No," she said quickly. "I'm just gonna clear my head and go see Stiles, okay?"

"Okay," Melissa nodded slowly. "You know that if you need anything at all, I'm here, right? Even just to talk."

"I know," Lydia replied, giving her a small smile. "Thank you."

She gave Melissa a hug before getting in her car and driving off.

''''''''''

She wasn't sure how she ended up sitting on a bench in the park, but she was. She picked at her frozen yogurt, not even sure why she bought it when it didn't sound appetizing.

After driving around for a while, she had impulsively went to the yogurt place down the road. But she didn't want to sit there in the loud building, so she had wandered to the park, sitting on the bench near the playground, watching the sky get darker as the sun set.

The wind brought the tinkle of a child's laughter, and her chest tightened at the sound. It sounded like a little girl.

As the sky around her settled into dusk, she couldn't help but stand up and make her way closer to the playground, her curiosity getting the best of her.

She watched as a girl – no older than four – climbed up the ladder to the slide, her long, chestnut brown hair illuminated by the setting sun and her smile just as bright. The girl sat down at the top of the slide, her grin widening as she waved in Lydia's direction, pushing herself off with a squeal of excitement.

"Good job, sweetheart!" a voice beside her said, the sound of clapping bringing her out of her reverie.

Looking behind her, Lydia saw a women with hair the same shade of brown as the girl sitting at a bench a few feet away. The woman had a large smile on her face, clapping for her daughter as she ran back to the ladder.

The woman saw Lydia then, her smile turning into a welcoming one. "How are you?"

"Fine," Lydia said, finding herself taking a few steps towards the woman. "Is that your daughter?"

"It is," the woman nodded. "She's something else."

"She's beautiful," Lydia told her, unable to stop the tears from forming in her eyes.

"Thank you," she said before concern overtook her expression. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Lydia nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a little emotional tonight, I guess."

The woman's gaze fell to Lydia's stomach, where she hadn't realized her hand was resting. Quickly, she let it fall to her side, but it was too late. The woman's gaze was filled with sympathy.

"Come here," she said, patting the seat next to her. After a moment, Lydia sat, putting her yogurt in the trash as she went. "How long ago?"

Lydia looked at her, confused. "How do you know?"

"I know that look," she said gently. "And I know exactly what it means. How long ago?"

"A month," Lydia admitted, her voice soft.

"Was it your first?" the woman asked.

Lydia nodded. "It wasn't expected. We were terrified at first, but we still wanted to keep her. We had just found out that she was a girl."

She nodded in understanding, looking out at her daughter for a moment before looking back at Lydia. "I lost three before I had Mia."

"Three?" Lydia asked, shocked.

She nodded. "The last two were still in the first trimester, but the first one was at nineteen weeks and two days."

"Seventeen weeks and three days," Lydia told her. "How were you able to get through it? I can't even get through one."

That was the first time that she admitted out loud that she wasn't okay. That she wasn't getting better. She hadn't told anyone because she didn't want to be a burden, but according to Malia, she wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"It wasn't easy," the woman told her. "And it took a lot longer than a month for me to even think about trying again. Believe me, there are still days where it hurts like hell, and all I can think of is how unfair it is that Mia can't have her older siblings with her. It's always going to hurt. But just like with anything else, life goes on, and you have to go with it."

Lydia looked down at her hands. "I haven't been doing a very good job of that. I've been trying, but all I've been doing is shutting everyone out, including my boyfriend. I know that he's hurting, I do. But I just…It's almost like I can't even bring myself to help him. I'm just so stuck."

Why was it so easy to talk to her? She didn't even know this woman, but here she was, crying and pouring her heart out to a complete stranger.

But she knew why. As much as the Pack cared for her and wanted to help, none of them could completely understand what she was going through – not even Stiles, as much as he was grieving himself. It was different. It had been her job to create that life, and ultimately it was down to her to protect it. She had failed, and lost her daughter because of it.

"You want to know what I've learned?" the woman asked, taking Lydia's hand and squeezing it on comfort. "I've learned that there is no loss compared to that of losing a child, no matter when you lose it. But you have to talk to someone about it. Whether it's your boyfriend, or a friend, or sometimes even a stranger."

Lydia gave her a smile, squeezing the woman's hand gently. "Okay."

"They have meetings," she said, pulling her hand out of Lydia's to pull a card out of her purse. "Both for the mothers and fathers. It's hard at first, but I promise it helps so much to know that you're not alone. It's helped both me and my husband."

Lydia took the card, barely able to read it as the sun had almost set.

"Mommy, it's getting dark!" Mia called out, running over to them with a grin on her face. "That means it's almost time for Daddy to read me a story! I can't miss that!"

"Of course!" she answered. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. She looked at Lydia, curiosity and concern clear on her features. "You're crying, that means you're sad. Why are you sad?"

Lydia smiled at her, touched by the girl's concern. "I'm okay. Your mom was actually helping me. She made me a little less sad."

"My mommy's really good at that," Mia said, nodding. "I'm Mia."

"Nice to meet you, Mia," Lydia told her. "My name's Lydia."

Her eyes got wide with excitement. "That's my favorite doll's name!"

"Really?" Lydia asked. "How cool! But as much as I would love to talk more about that, I heard that you have to see your daddy."

"I do," she nodded again. "He reads to me every night, and I'm learning to read to him!"

"That sounds awesome," Lydia told her, giving her a smile. "I don't want to keep you from it. Besides, I need to go talk to my boyfriend."

"Okay," Mia told her. "It was nice to meet you, Lydia."

"Likewise." Lydia stood up from the bench with Mia's mother. "I never got your name."

"Cara," she said. "I'll see you at the meeting?"

"I…I'll think about it."

"Good," she smiled. "That's a start."

"Thank you," Lydia told her.

"Not a problem," Cara assured. "I'll see you around."

''''''''''

 _"What the hell did you say to her?"_

 _"You think that I want to tell you?"_

 _"Why wouldn't you want to tell me?"_

 _"Because it's private!"_

Scott sighed, sitting in the kitchen as he listened to Isaac try to talk to Malia. Kira sat next to him, stirring honey into a cup of tea.

"What are they saying?" she whispered.

"She's won't tell him what he said, and he doesn't like it," Scott told her. "Was it really that bad?"

"It wasn't very nice," she admitted. "But I can understand her not wanting to tell him, considering what the original conversation was about."

"What was it about?" he asked. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he understood. "Got it. I think I'm gonna try talking to her."

"Okay," she nodded.

He gave her a quick peck, making his way to the porch.

"Isaac," he said, standing in the doorway. "Give us a minute, okay?"

Isaac looked like he was going to argue, but Malia replied before he could.

"Yeah, go ahead," she said, shooting Isaac a stern look.

"Fine," He muttered, brushing past Scott to get inside.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked her.

"I'm fine," she told him. "It was just a slap. It's not like I haven't had worse."

"True," he nodded. "But never from a Pack-mate."

"I'm okay," she assured. "I deserved it, anyway."

"Why?" he asked. "What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter," she said, her gaze straying to the door.

Scott nodded in understanding. "You wanna go for a walk?"

She looked at him for a moment before nodding. "That actually sounds really nice."

Scott made his way off of the porch, shoving his hands in his pockets as Malia followed him down to the sidewalk and down the street.

They were silent for a while, both of them unsure where to start. But Scott knew that if she didn't want to talk about it even in the vicinity of Isaac, he knew that it probably had started off as a normal girl-talk conversation.

"Are you making sure it's safe before you ask me?" she finally asked. "Because I don't think that we can be heard anymore."

"I'm assuming that the conversation had something to do with Isaac?" he said.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I'm sure you've probably noticed how weird we've been around each other."

"Sort of," Scott admitted. "But I didn't want to say anything. Not really my business, you know?"

"You're our Alpha," she said.

"Doesn't mean I want to be involved in every aspect of your personal lives!" he told her. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"Lydia asked about what was going on between Isaac and me," she said. "I've talked to her about it before, and I know he likes me back, but it's more complicated than that, you know? She was trying to get me to talk to him about it, and I got frustrated and said some stuff about her and Stiles not talking lately and that she didn't seem to care how he was feeling – not as nicely as that, of course – and she slapped me."

He stopped walking, staring at her in disbelief. "Malia!"

"I know!" she said. "I know. It was awful, and I shouldn't have. But we all know I'm still getting a hold of the whole tact thing. I've been worried about her this whole time, and that came out at the wrong time in the wrong way, and I just…She had every right to slap me."

"Yes, that was bad," Scott said. "And yes, you probably shouldn't have brought it up, especially like that. But that doesn't mean that she's in the right to slap you. I mean, I'm not taking sides here. You're both in the wrong."

"I really am worried about her, Scott," she admitted.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm worried, too. But it doesn't need to be brought up like that."

"I know," she said.

There were silent for a moment, walking again before Scott asked his next question.

"What do you need to talk to Isaac about?"

''''''''''

Stiles scrolled, reading every article he could find. He wasn't sure how, but he found himself researching what was normal for a woman to go through after a miscarriage. He knew that it would be rough, and he knew that it would take a while for everything to go back to somewhat normal.

But something was telling him that there was something more going on than just grief, and he was going to find out what.

Her grief had shown the first week or so after the accident, but after that, it had changed. She had become apathetic, and she started pulling away from him, when before they had been almost inseparable. He knew that grief changed, that there were different stages, but he couldn't help the gut feeling that he had.

The doorbell rang, causing Stiles to jump. He headed downstairs to get it, knowing that his dad was going over paperwork, and Stiles didn't want to make him get up.

"I got it!" he called out at the top of the stairs, but his dad was already opening the door.

"Hey," his dad said, surprise coloring his tone.

"Hi." That was Lydia. Why was Lydia here? "Is Stiles here?"

"Right here," Stiles said, stepping off the last stair. "What's up?"

Lydia stepped inside, shrugging off her jacket. "Can we talk?"

''''''''''

"What's up?" Stiles asked, sitting in his desk chair while Lydia sat on the edge of the bed. He hated the distance between them, but she seemed awkward and he didn't want to make it worse by crowding her.

She was silent, staring at her hands as they clasped together. Her lips were pressed together, and his eyes narrowed. She was nervous. Why was she nervous?

"Lydia?" he asked.

"There's a support group," she said softly. "There's even one for the guys. I thought you might want to know that."

He nodded slowly, watching as she dug through her purse and pulled out a card. She handed it to him without even looking at it.

Taking it, Stiles read the text. "Why are you telling me this? Do you want to go?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It sounded nice at the time, but I've been driving around for an hour thinking about it. Now I'm not so sure."

"Why not?" he asked. "This could be really good for you. For both of us. Why wouldn't we go?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know."

"What do you know, Lydia?" he asked, his frustration growing. "Why are you telling me about this if you don't want to go?"

Her eyes snapped to his, anger flashing in them. It was the most fire he had seen in them in weeks.

"We don't have to go together," she snapped. "You're the one who wants to talk all the fucking time, so I thought you might want to know!"

"I want to talk to you!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out as he stood up. "I want to talk to the one person that I know who knows what I'm going through right now!"

"Except I don't know what you're going through!" she said, standing up herself. She wasn't wearing heels, so the height difference was even more prominent. "And you don't really know what I'm going through! We both lost her, but the actual experience is completely different between the two of us."

"I realize that," he said, his frustration turning to anger. "But it doesn't mean that we can't talk! I don't know what it feels like for you, but you can help me understand!"

"Can I?" she asked, taking a step forward. "Can I really help you understand that I woke up in that hospital feeling empty without her, and that the feeling's only gotten worse? Can I help you understand the fact that I was the one who was supposed to nourish her, and that no matter what that it was down to me to protect her, and I couldn't do that? How guilty I feel that our daughter is dead because I went into a fugue state because of _Gerard fucking Argent's death!_ Because of my abilities, and those abilities trying to save that worthless man's life, that Addyson lost hers?"

She was crying, and Stiles couldn't stop the tears in his eyes, either. Every time her name was mentioned, it was like a stab to the heart.

"You don't think I feel guilty?" he asked. "It wasn't just on you to protect her, Lydia. I'm her father! I was supposed to protect her, too! But none of us could've stopped what happened. She didn't die because of you, Lydia. She died because some asshole ran a red light. You couldn't have reacted to that even if you weren't in a fugue state."

"I wasn't even supposed to be there!" She yelled. "If that hadn't have happened, I would have been safe at home, and so would she!"

"That still isn't your fault!" he insisted, grabbing her shoulders. "That's Kate's fault! She's the one who killed Gerard!"

She shrugged him off, turning around and walking away from him. "It doesn't feel like that!"

"It should!" he told her. "If you want to be mad, be mad at Kate! _She's_ the reason Addyson is dead."

This wasn't the first time that he had told her that, but apparently it still hadn't gotten through to her. This was, however, the first time that she had admitted any of this to him. The first time that she had told him how she felt at all in the whole situation.

"I know that," she told him, her hands balled into fists at her side. "Believe me, I know. But it was still on me to protect her, and I couldn't do that."

"Lydia –"

"I didn't come here to fight," she told him, turning back to face him, anger still clear on her face. "If you want to go to the meetings, then go. Maybe I'll even meet you there, I don't know yet. But I'll, uh…I'll see you tomorrow."

She headed towards the door, but Stiles beat her there, blocking her path.

"Lydia, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with the tears that threatened to spill over. "Just stay. Talk to me."

"We just tried that," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It turned into a fight, and I'd rather not have two in one night."

"Lydia –"

"Let me through, Stiles," she demanded, her voice sharp. "I just want to go home."

He shook his head, resting his hands on her shoulders. "I don't want you to leave mad."

"I'm not mad," she told him. "I just don't want to fight!"

"Then let's not fight," he insisted. "Just stay."

"No," she shook her head fiercely, tears building in her eyes again. "Look, I know that you're hurting, I do. But honestly? I just can't bring myself to care enough to do anything about it."

He stepped back, his chest tightening at her words. His tears spilled over as he nodded slowly, licking his lips. She simply continued to stare him down.

"That's, uh…" he said, looking down at his feet. "That's good to know. Thanks for the clarification. You know, I was holding out hope, but I guess I don't have to, huh?"

"I guess not," she said. "Now will you let me through?"

He stepped aside, his anger boiling as she rushed out. After a moment, the front door slammed shut, and Stiles slammed his own door as the sobs started.

* * *

 **I know this wasn't the best, and that Lydia seems kind of OOC, but I promise there's a reason for it! Next chapter we'll get more in the Kate situation.**

 **Let me know what you think!**


	23. Chapter 23

Derek watched Chris as he sat at the table, focusing on the paperwork spread out across the surface. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he was obviously frustrated.

"Hey," Derek said, setting a cup of coffee down on the table. "Maybe you should take a break. Staring at the same stuff for hours isn't exactly going to help you."

Chris eyed the coffee, pushing away from the table with a sigh. "If I take a break, I'm going to need something stronger than coffee."

Derek nodded, heading back towards the kitchen. "That can be arranged."

He grabbed two glasses and a bottle of scotch and went back out to the table.

"That's more like it," Chris said, taking a glass and the bottle from him as he sat down himself. "It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

Derek chuckled as Chris handed him the bottle, pouring himself a glass. "I'll drink to that."

They sat in silence for a moment, Derek looking at the papers on the table. "You know, it's not your fault if you can't find anything. It's not the first time that she's hidden, and hidden well."

"Yeah, well by the time we were sure about anything last time, it was too late," Chris told him. "And Lydia and Stiles lost their child because of it. I don't want that again."

"You lost your father that night," Derek said. "Don't dismiss that."

"No," he shook his head, taking a drink. "I lost my father a long time ago."

Derek nodded. "Okay, but you can still be upset. We're not gonna look at you any differently for grieving."

As much as Derek had hated the man, he knew what losing family was like. He knew that Chris was hurting more than he let on, even if he hadn't been that close to Gerard when he was killed.

"I don't need to," Chris said, shaking his head. "What I need to do is find Kate and stop her. I can't let her kill Scott."

"We're not going to let her," he assured.

"I know," Chris nodded. "But we have to find her to stop her. Why is she waiting so long to strike? That's not like Kate."

"To be fair, she waited a year last time," Derek said.

"But once she decided to get revenge, she didn't waste time," Chris mused. "She's never been one to waste time."

"She's not wasting time," he said, looking down at his drink. "She's waiting for the right moment to strike."

"The right moment would've been while everyone was vulnerable right after the accident," Chris said. "Why wait this long?"

Derek shrugged, drinking the last of his scotch. "I guess that's something we'll have to find out once we find her."

''''''''''

Lydia walked through the front door of the school, her stomach dropping when she saw Stiles at his locker. He didn't notice her, talking to Scott at a million miles a minute.

It had been four days since she had gone over to his house, and they hadn't talked since. She had been avoiding him as much as she could, and she wasn't planning on changing that tactic.

The only problem was that she would have to walk by him to get to her class.

Quickly, she pulled out her phone and started walking, silently begging that neither of them spotted her.

"Lydia!"

She internally cursed as Kira made her way down the hall towards her. Of course her friend had called out to her right as she passed Scott and Stiles.

"Hey, Kira," she said, forcing a smile on her face as Kira came up beside her.

"Here's your notes," Kira told her, holding out a notebook to her. "Thanks for letting us borrow them, they really helped Scott last night."

"I'm glad," she said. "I'm sorry I couldn't come over last night, I just –"

"It's okay," Kira assured her. "I understand."

Malia had been over to study with Isaac, as well as keep guard over Scott. Lydia wasn't ready to deal with that.

"I really think that you should talk to her, though," Kira said. "She feels really bad, and she knows that she shouldn't have said that. She wants to apologize."

"She doesn't have to apologize," Lydia assured her. "I should be the one that apologizes."

"What do you have to apologize for?"

She looked to Stiles, who was giving her a curious look. Scott looked between the two of them, brow furrowed in confusion.

"It doesn't matter," she told him, not able to bring herself to look at him. She hadn't been able to fully look at him in days. But she didn't know how to apologize to him after what she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice taking a bitter edge. "Or do you just not care enough to tell me?"

She felt herself stiffen as her hands curled into fists. He left the group, the breeze that he left cooling her exposed skin to match the ice that was making its way through her veins. The look that Scott and Kira shared wasn't missed.

"What?" she snapped, not knowing what else to do. She didn't want to talk about it, and she sure as hell wasn't going to do it in the middle of the school hallway.

"Nothing," Kira said. "Unless there's something you want to tell us. Which you totally don't have to if you don't want to, but if you do, we're here –"

"I don't wanna talk about it," she interrupted. "Besides, I'm sure Stiles has already told Scott."

Scott looked down, looking uncomfortable. "I don't want to get in the middle of this."

"I don't want you to, either," Lydia told him. "You should be taking Stiles' side on this."

"I'm not taking anyone's side," Scott insisted. "I think that there's something more going on here than what either of you guys are saying, and you two need to talk it out. That has nothing to do with me, or anyone else in this pack."

"You know what I said, right?" she asked. "Stiles tells you everything, I don't know why he wouldn't tell you this. So you know what I said, and you know that he has every right to be mad at me. And I don't know what to say to him to make it better."

"You can start by actually talking to him," he said.

The bell rang, breaking the tension that was building between them.

"I have to get to class," she told him.

"We all have the same class," he reminded her.

"Right."

''''''''''

Malia sat in math class, unsurprisingly confused by the new material they were covering. She wrote down the new formula regardless, knowing that Isaac would get her to understand.

The Isaac that she still hadn't talked to about anything _except_ homework.

It wasn't that she was afraid to ask him. She had bugged him about what took him out of Beacon Hills for weeks before he answered her. There was no other reason for that other than she was curious. She definitely wasn't afraid to ask him.

She was however, absolutely _terrified_ of the possible answer.

If she asked him if the only reason her liked her was because she didn't remind him of Allison, and he said yes, what was she supposed to do? She didn't want to be in a relationship like that. He wanted someone who liked her because of her. And as much as she thought that it was because she wasn't Allison…

No one looked at someone that way that he looked at her because they _weren't_ somebody.

The bell rang, and she practically jumped out of her seat to get out of there.

"Malia, can you stay for a minute?" Mr. Allen asked as she tried to sneak past his desk.

"Yeah," she sighed, stopping. "If this is about that last test, I actually understood a lot of it, so if I failed it, I don't know why."

"You didn't fail it," he said, pulling a piece of paper off of his desk and holding it up. There was a bright red _84_ on it. Her jaw dropped. "This is your best grade yet."

"I…have someone tutoring me," Malia said, still shocked by her grade. "But I didn't think that I did that good."

"Well whoever your tutor is," he told her. "Keep them."

Malia nodded dumbly. "Yes, sir."

She walked out of class, unable to help the smile that made its way onto her face.

"I think that's the first time I've seen you walk out of there smiling."

She turned to see Isaac, leaning against the wall outside of her classroom. It wasn't surprising. He had been doing that a lot more lately, considering his class was only a couple of doors down.

"I got an eighty-four on that last test," she told him, beaming as she walked up to him. "An eighty four! That's a B!"

"Seriously?" he asked. "That's awesome!"

He put his arms around her, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around in a hug.

"All thanks to you," she told him once he put her down. He didn't drop his arms.

"Well, I didn't take the test for you," he said. "If I had, you would've gotten an A."

She smacked his chest, pulling away from him before it got awkward. "Shut up."

"Well, it's the truth!"

"I have new material that you have to get me to understand," she said. They both had a free period, and they had been using it to improve her math skills. "Let's go."

''''''''''

"You know, you don't have to babysit me."

"I'm not babysitting you. I'm protecting you."

"Still. If you're really that worried, I can just set up the mountain ash."

"Oh, I already did that."

Melissa looked at Braeden, eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Braeden said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"How are Scott and Isaac supposed to get in after school?" she asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Braeden told her, taking a drink of coffee.

Braeden had been babysitting Melissa in rotation with everyone else. Scott had become paranoid after finding out about Kate, insisting on as much protection for everyone as possible. While Melissa appreciated her son's worry, as well as everyone else's, but it was starting to get ridiculous.

"What?" Braeden asked with a shrug. "If you had waited until you needed it, it would've been too late."

"Okay," Melissa said, shaking her head. "I guess you have more experience in all of this."

"I do," she nodded. "Which is why Scott wants me to look after you as much as possible."

Melissa leaned back on the couch, looking at Braeden curiously. "If you're so experienced in all of this, than why didn't you go with Chris to look for Kate?"

"I was needed here," Braeden said simply.

"Fair enough," Melissa nodded. They were silent for a moment before she chuckled. "After everything, it must be awfully boring babysitting me."

"It's actually nice," Braden admitted. "It's not very often my skills allow me to spend down time just talking."

There was the sound of a familiar engine outside, and Braeden tensed.

"Relax," Melissa told her. "It's just the mailman."

After a moment, the noise of the engine faded, and Melissa got up to go get it.

"Where are you going?" Braden asked, getting up and following her.

"To get the mail," she said, slipping on her shoes by the door.

"I'll get it," Braeden said. "I don't want you outside of this mountain ash."

"It's just to get the mail," Melissa told her. "I'll be fine."

"Just to be safe," she insisted. "Let me get it."

Melissa sighed, stepping back from the door. "Fine. But you don't have to baby me."

"I'm not babying you," Braden told her. "I'm protecting you. Go sit, I'll be right back."

She stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her as Melissa made her way back to the couch and started looking through the guide on her television.

Settling on the latest episode of _Ellen,_ she realized that Braeden was gone for longer than necessary. She knew that walk and how long it took. Two minutes was pushing it. Five minutes was way too long. Especially with everything that was going on. Her intuition was screaming at her, so she got up from the couch to check on Braeden.

Then she heard a gunshot.

She ran to the door and wrenched it open, pausing for a split second to grab the baseball bat before running to Braeden.

Braeden was laying on the ground, her hair covering her face. Melissa looked her over to check for wounds, not seeing any on the side that she could see. Gently moving the girl to her back, she gasped at the small pool of blood in the grass. She found the wound on Braden's side, her stomach dropping as she saw the set of scratch marks. Luckily they were shallow, and judging by cut on the side of the girl's head, they weren't the reason she was unconscious.

She felt the presence of someone behind her, and tensed when she heard the crunch of dry grass. Slowly, she stood up and turned around, gripping the bat like a lifeline.

Melissa had never met Kate, but she knew the woman in front of her was an Argent. It didn't matter how evil Kate was, she still shared Allison's genes, and Melissa saw the strength in this woman's eyes that had always been present in Allison's. Too bad it was hiding under malice.

"Hi," Kate said. "I don't actually think we've met."

"Yeah, well, I guess your luck ran out," Melissa told her, shifting her grip on the bat so she could swing of she had to.

" _My_ luck?" she laughed. "You wanna rephrase that?"

"No, I got it right," Melissa said. "Because you may be a supernatural creature hell-bent on some kind of revenge plot that doesn't even make sense, but I'm a mother, and you don't want to know what I'm capable of when someone threatens my kids."

She swung the bat with all the force she could muster, but it never connected. Kate grasped the other end of the bat, pulling it out of Melissa's grasp and throwing her to the ground.

Her head collided with the ground, disorienting her. She blinked, trying to keep her head from spinning as Kate kneeled down next to her.

"Mama Bear's gonna have to do better than that."

Pain exploded from her temple, and her vision went black.

''''''''''

Scott sat in the library, trying to make flashcards from his biology notes. He had actually gotten quite good at it over the school year. How to phrase things, what was most likely to be asked and how to approach it. Of course having Lydia to show him had always helped.

She hadn't been too much help lately, but he honestly didn't blame her. They were all still hurting, and he couldn't imagine what she was feeling. She had gotten good at masking her emotions, but there were still times where he could smell the grief on her. It was always so strong, but it only lasted a moment before she controlled herself again.

He had been smelling it more lately, though. Just in class this morning he had smelled it so strong that it had overwhelmed him, and he couldn't help the tears that build in his eyes before it disappeared.

It wasn't good for her to keep it bottled up like she was, but he knew that she wouldn't be any different. That was how she handled things. She bottled it up and pretended to move on. The only problem with that was that the longer people kept things bottled up, the bigger the explosion when they finally let it go.

He was afraid of how long it would take for her to blow up.

Stiles slid into the seat across from him, pulling out his books with a sigh. He looked tired – well, more tired than usual – and Scott couldn't help but smell the anxiety and grief wafting off of him. Anxiety had always been normal in Stiles' chemo signals, but the grief had become just as commonplace over the past few weeks. Scott still felt guilty every time that he smelled it, no matter how much everyone told him that it wasn't his fault. He had been there, and he couldn't do anything. That was on him.

"How are the flashcards going?" Stiles asked.

"Pretty good," Scott said. "Have you talked to Lydia today?"

"Nope," he answered, popping the 'p.' "She's all but ignoring me."

"Did you think that it might be because she thinks you don't wanna talk to her?" Scott asked. "You've kind of been ignoring her, too."

"Do you blame me?" Stiles said. "She told me that she didn't care how I felt. Am I supposed to just act like everything's okay after that?"

"No," Scott said, shaking his head. "But maybe you could figure out why she feels that way. I mean, that doesn't sound like Lydia to me. At all."

"I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But I don't know what to do. And what happened between her and Malia that she won't tell me?"

"You really don't know?" Scott asked. "From what you told me, she came over after it happened."

"So you were there?" Stiles asked.

He nodded. "It happened at my house."

" _What_ happened?"

Scott was hesitant, unsure if he should really say anything. Lydia would have told him if she wanted him to know, right? Then again, Lydia hadn't really been acting like herself. "She slapped Malia."

Stiles' eyes widened in disbelief. "What? Why the hell would she do that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "They were out on the porch talking, and I guess Lydia pushed a button about Isaac, and Malia pushed back about you, and Lydia slapped her. Malia feels really bad about it, because she knows she shouldn't have said what she did, but Lydia shouldn't have slapped her, either."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, thoughtful.

Scott's phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find Derek's name on the caller ID.

"Derek?" he asked, trying to stay quiet. He was still in the library after all.

"You need to get to your house. Now."

"Why?" he asked, panic taking him. "Derek, what's going on?"

There was a sigh, and he thought that he heard Braeden in the background before Derek answered. "Kate was here. She took Melissa."

''''''''''

There was a banging on the front door, startling Lydia awake. When did she go to sleep?

She got up, making her way to the door and opening it to reveal Malia, her entire stance one of worry and panic.

"We have to go," she urged, pushing herself in and grabbing Lydia's shoes to hand to her. "We have to get to Scott's."

"Why?" Lydia asked, panic filling her as he slid her shoes on. "What's wrong."

"Kate took Melissa."

"What?" Lydia grabbed her purse, following Malia out the door and to the taller girl's car. "Wasn't Braeden supposed to be there?"

"She was," Malia explained as they got into the car and pulled out of the driveway. "Kate ambushed her. Deaton's giving her stitches now."

"Stitches?" Lydia asked. "How bad was it?"

"I don't know," Malia told her. "We just need to get there."

"Okay, okay."

There was an awkward silence, Lydia trying to figure out what to say. "I…I'm sorry about the other night. I shouldn't have slapped you."

"Well, I shouldn't have said what I did," Malia said. "So both of us were in the wrong. But I forgive you."

"Likewise," Lydia told her.

"Water under the bridge," Malia said. "Now let's go get Kate, okay?"

''''''''''

Stiles stood in the doorway of Melissa's bedroom as Scott rummaged through her drawers, trying to find something with her scent on it.

"Of course she did all the laundry today," Scott muttered, smelling a pair of pajama pants. "Of fucking course."

"Do you want me to check the laundry room?" Stiles asked. "See if she finished?"

Scott shook his head. "No. The whites were in the basket in the living room. She always does them last."

"Gotcha'," Stiles nodded, going to the closet and opening it. This was one of the times that he wished that he had Scott's abilities so he could help.

The front door slammed shut, and Scott went to the door, calling out. "Liam! Malia! I need you up here now!"

Stiles heard the footsteps rushing up the stairs, Malia almost running into Scott as she came in. "What do you need?"

"Try to find something with her scent," he told her as Liam followed her into the room.

"I'm gonna see if Deaton needs anything," Stiles said, wanting to feel useful somewhere.

"Okay," Scott said. "Let me know how she is, okay?"

Stiles nodded, making his way out of the room and down the stairs, going to the living room where Deaton was treating Braeden.

"How is she?" he asked, trying to ignore the strawberry blonde sitting in the chair in the corner. He was still bitter about the other night, even though he didn't really know why at that point. He had never held a grudge against Lydia Martin, so he wasn't sure why he was starting now.

"I'll be fine," Braeden told him. "They aren't even that deep. No stitches needed."

Deaton finished taping the gauze on the scratch, standing and packing up his briefcase. "You were very lucky, Braeden. Though I'm surprised she went so easy on you, considering who Kate is."

"Whatever the reason, she didn't do it just to spare you," Derek said, coming in carrying a t-shirt and handing it to his girlfriend.

"She probably thought that Melissa would put up more of a fight if Braeden was mortally wounded," Deaton said. "Not that Melissa didn't put up a fight, of course."

Footsteps came down the stairs, Scott coming into the living room with Malia and Liam right behind him.

"I found her robe," he said, holding it out. "We ready?"

Derek nodded. "Let's go."

Scott turned to Stiles. "Can you let your dad know? I don't want the whole Sheriff's department, but we might need his help."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "I'll head over there."

"Take Lydia with you," Scott said. "She can help."

Stiles wanted to object, but the desperation in his best friend's eyes stopped him. "Okay."

Stiles stood there, unable to look at Lydia as they all filtered out. There was an awkward silence, filled only by the snap of Deaton's bag closing.

Looking between them, the veterinarian sighed as he picked up his bag. "I don't know what's going on between you two, and you don't have to tell me. But I know that both of you care about Melissa and want her safe. So for both her and Scott's sake, you need to work together. Please do."

He made his way to the front door, calling out over his shoulder. "I'll be at the clinic if I'm needed."

Stiles stood there for a moment, unsure what to do as the silence settled between them again.

"Well?" she asked, standing up. "Are we going to the station or not?"

* * *

 **I always love to know what you think!**


	24. Chapter 24

**All right, here's this week's chapter!**

* * *

Lydia sat in the Jeep as Stiles drove, trying to ignore the hurt she felt as he ignored her. She deserved it. What she said to him was awful, and she didn't blame him for being mad at her.

He cleared his throat, catching Lydia's attention. "So…Scott told me what happened with you and Malia."

"What?" she asked, shocked. Why would Scott tell him that? It wasn't something that she wanted anyone who wasn't there to know.

"Yeah," he nodded, making a turn. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't something that I was proud of," she admitted, looking at her hands. "I got mad, and I slapped her, and I left."

"Then you came to see me?" he asked.

"After driving around for a while, yeah," she nodded, cringing at the thought of talking about the other night.

"Where you then got in a fight with me."

"I'm not proud of it," she told him. "I feel awful about it."

"Why have you been ignoring me, then?" he asked.

" _I've_ been ignoring _you_?" she asked, turning in her seat to face him. "You're the one that's avoiding me unless it's to make a snide comment! I've been giving you space because I know I hurt you by what I said –"

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because that's how I feel!" she told him, her voice catching in her throat as tears sprung to her eyes. "I don't want to feel this way, but I do! That's what you wanted! You wanted me to talk to you about how I felt and I did!"

He pulled over, slamming the gear into park and turning to her, anger clear in his eyes. "Why the fuck do you feel like that, huh? I know that you used to act like some cold-hearted bitch that didn't care about anyone else's pain, but that's not who you actually are! I've always known that! So why the hell do you all of a sudden not give a shit about how I'm feeling?"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed. "I don't fucking know, and I don't how to fix it!"

"What do you know?" he asked.

"I. Don't. Know!"

They looked at each other, Stiles' eyes hard as he stared. She didn't know how much his eyes could hurt her. They had always been warm and loving. Welcoming and accepting. But now there was nothing but hurt and anger, and she didn't know how to fix it.

Finally, he turned forward again, putting the Jeep back into gear and pulling back out onto the street.

"We need to get to my dad."

''''''''''

"Anything?"

"Nothing yet."

Scott growled in frustration, pausing to catch his breath. They had caught his mom's scent a while back, but it had been lost and now they couldn't find it again.

Why did things have to always be so difficult?

"Hey," Isaac said, catching up to him. "We're gonna find her, okay? She'll be okay."

"How do we know that?" he asked. "This is Kate we're talking about."

"If something does happen, Lydia will know," Isaac told him. "But she hasn't felt anything."

"That just means she isn't dead," Scott snapped. "I don't want her hurt at all."

"We're gonna get her," he said. "I promise."

Scott nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "Okay. Yeah. Let's find her."

''''''''''

Melissa struggled to get out of her bonds, determined to get out.

"I highly doubt that you'll be able to work your way out of a zip-tie," Kate told her from across the room.

"I can sure as hell try," she snapped, trying not to wince as the tie dug into her wrist. She wouldn't give this woman the satisfaction of seeing it.

"Have at it," Kate told her, pacing towards her. "You might as well get used to some pain anyway."

Melissa stilled, her glare turning to a wary glance. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Kate laughed, her head thrown back as she did so. "Did you really think that I wouldn't have some fun with you while I had you?"

A clap of thunder sounded, causing Melissa to jump. She didn't know if it was the atmosphere, or what she'd heard about Kate, but somehow she knew that this was going to be bad.

''''''''''

"What do you mean Kate has Melissa?" John asked, his voice rising with him as he stood up behind the desk.

"Kate…took her?" Stiles said. "They're out looking for her now, but I haven't heard anything from them."

John got out from behind the desk and started pacing. Lydia couldn't help but look out the window of the office to make sure that no one noticed their Sheriff in distress.

"Well if you don't want me to put out an APB or missing person's report, what the hell do you want me to do?" John asked. "I can't do anything about it if you guys won't let me!"

"Scott hasn't given the okay yet," Lydia said. "But in case he does, you need to be ready."

"And what am I supposed to do until then?" he asked. "Just sit around? I don't know if I can do that."

"You don't have a choice, Dad," Stiles told him. "We don't want just anyone fighting Kate."

"What do you think that Melissa is doing right now?" John challenged. "You know she's fighting any way she knows how, and Kate's not gonna like that. So what do you think that Kate is gonna do to her?"

Lydia's stomach dropped. She had thought about that, but part of her was trying to pass it off as paranoia. But the fact that someone else was thinking the same thing made it more plausible.

"Can we… _not_ think about that right now?" Stiles asked, taking a deep breath. "Can we just focus on finding her?"

"The people who are out there actually doing something can," John said. "But what are we supposed to do?"

Stiles looked at Lydia, causing her heart to skip a beat. Even though it had only been a few days, she missed him looking at her like that. It was stupid, but true.

"Do you feel anything?" he asked. "Anything at all that would suggest that she's…"

Lydia took a deep breath, trying to focus on anything that might be there. If something was happening with Melissa, she would know, right? She had known about Gerard, why wouldn't she know about Melissa?

"No," she finally said, shaking her head. "I'm not getting any feeling."

"That's good," Stiles nodded. "That's good, right?"

"As far as I know," Lydia told him shrugging.

"Yeah," he nodded again, beginning to pace. "But where would Kate even take her?"

"That's what Scott and them are trying to find out," John said. "That's what _I_ want to find out."

"Not yet, Dad," Stiles reminded him. "We need to wait for Scott's okay."

The Sheriff sighed, sinking down into the couch. "When did me being able to do my job come down to a teenage boy telling me when it was okay?"

Both Stiles and Lydia were silent, unsure how to answer that question.

''''''''''

"And what exactly are you going to do to me?" Melissa asked, trying to mask her fear. This was the woman who had burned down the Hale house with the whole family inside. Who knew what this psycho was capable of?

"I'm not sure yet," Kate told her, walking slowly over to her. "You're human, and my expertise in torture has always been for monsters that could handle a lot more. I really don't want to electrocute you, because there's a fine line between shocking you and killing you. I could cut you, but there's always the chance that you'll bleed out before you heal…I'll just have to think about it, I guess. Better hope that your precious Scottie finds you before I decide. Then I won't have to hurt you…just him."

"You lay one hand on him and I swear to God I'll –"

"You'll what?" Kate laughed. "Kill me? Can't really do that with your hands behind your back, now can you? Besides, I could've taken you before I was turned."

"You think you're the only one who have taken down some werewolves?" Melissa asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I've taken down more than you," Kate countered, crouching down in front of her. "And now I have the added abilities of being a were-creature myself, which I'm actually starting to like. I mean, not only am I faster, stronger, and all around better, but it got me out from under my father's thumb."

"What happened?" Melissa asked. "Being daddy's little girl wasn't fun anymore?"

Kate laughed darkly. "It does get a little boring after a while. But there was also the problem of that pesky code. He broke it a few times himself, of course, but don't dare mention that you might bend it a little. He didn't like that."

Melissa looked at Kate, studying her face. "You don't even have a bit of remorse, do you?"

"No," Kate said, slowly shaking her head. "Remorse really isn't a thing I do."

She grabbed Melissa's chin, forcing Melissa to look at her. "And I'm not gonna have any remorse killing your son."

''''''''''

"Scott, we're going in circles."

"I know."

"If you know, than why are we still doing it?"

Scott stopped, looking at Isaac with a frustrated glare. "This is where we lost her scent. So I need to find her scent again so we can find her."

There was a clap of thunder, and raindrops start to fall lightly over the preserve.

Scott felt his eyes widen, panic flooding him. Rain meant that her scent was going to get washed away, and that meant that he couldn't find her.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his panic. "This can't be happening…"

"Hey," Malia said, walking towards him and taking his hand. "Don't freak out, okay?"

"I have to find her, Malia!" he exclaimed. "I don't know what Kate's capable of anymore, but I know that she was willing to kill her own father! What do you think she's gonna do to my mom?"

"But we don't know anything for sure yet," Malia told him. "For all we know, she hasn't touched her. It could just be like Anaheim. She's just trying to get to you."

"Anaheim was doing it for the money," Scott told her. "This is personal for Kate."

The rain had increased in intensity, leaving the motley group soaked.

"There's not gonna be any more scent," Malia said, almost apologetically. "I want to find your mom, I do, but we're not gonna do it by running around in the rain. Why don't we go see the Sheriff?"

"I don't want innocent people involved with her," Scott insisted, shaking his head.

"Scott, it's the only chance we have at this point," Isaac cut in.

Scott looked between his two betas, torn as he suppressed a shiver. He knew that getting the police involved was a good idea. The only thing that they had to go on was being washed away in the freezing rain. But he couldn't just push aside the fact that he would be sending clueless deputies to their very possible death. He knew it was a part of being a cop, but he didn't want to be the one to do it. He was supposed to save lives, not sacrifice them.

"Think about it, Scott," Isaac continued, knowing how hesitant his Alpha was. "If this was anybody else in our Pack, what would Melissa say?"

Scott licked his lips, looking at the ground. She would probably say something about how being a leader meant having to make tough choices. That he had to do what was best for his Pack, but still be good.

She would want him to save his Pack.

"Okay," he nodded. "Let's go."

''''''''''

Lydia sat on the couch watching the Stilinskis pace, amused at how alike they really were. A part of her missed this. She hadn't realized just how little she had seen them the past few weeks, especially the Sheriff. She had pulled away, just like she had with Allison. But at least with Allison she had cared about Stiles' hurt, about everyone else's hurt. Had she become callous? She still cared about Stiles, and how he was hurting, but not nearly as much as she should. Not enough to try to help him.

What the hell was happening to her?

Stiles pulled out his phone, despite it not going off, and Lydia knew that it was wishful thinking. They were all on edge, all needing to hear from someone. They needed to do something, but none of them knew what they could do.

"Why don't I get us some coffee," she suggested, standing up. Her hands came up to her waist, but she immediately brought them back down to her sides with a small smile, hoping that they didn't notice.

But it was the Stilinskis, so of course they did. It was in their DNA or something. Stiles nodded and looked down, pain clear in his eyes, while John gave returned her smile with one of his own, sympathy in his eyes.

"That would be great," the Sheriff said with a nod.

"Black?" she asked him. He nodded, and she looked to Stiles. "Cream, one sugar."

"Yeah," Stiles said quickly, resuming his pacing.

Lydia nodded and made her way to the break room, smiling at Parrish as he grabbed a water out of the fridge.

"What's up?" he asked, his brow raised.

"What do you mean?" she asked, grabbing two disposable cups and setting them on the counter. As an afterthought, she grabbed a third one for herself. She was still getting used being able to have caffeine again.

"Something's got the Sheriff riled up, and the fact that you two are in there, it can only mean something supernatural."

She sighed, turning around and leaning back against the counter. "No one can know yet, okay? We don't want the police involved until Scott gives the say so."

"Okay," Parrish nodded. "What's going on?"

She looked around, making sure no one was around to overhear before continuing. "Kate took Melissa, and they're out there looking for her."

"Melissa?" he asked in disbelief. "Why her?"

"Because she wants Scott," she explained. "And what better way to get to Scott than through his mom?"

Parrish sighed. "You'd think that the universe would give you guys a break."

"You'd think," she said, bitterness creeping into her tone. She turned back around and poured the coffee into the cups. "Anyway, don't worry about doing anything until we get word from Scott."

"Okay," he nodded. "How have you been?"

"Fine," she said, stirring Stiles' coffee. She liked Jordan, but she wasn't about to talk to him about anything. Just because he helped teach her how to fight, it didn't mean that they were best friends.

"Good," he said. She knew that he didn't believe her, but she appreciated him not pushing it. "Anything I can do to help you guys?"

"Sadly, not until Scott lets us know," she told him.

"Well let me know as soon as you do," Parrish said.

"Will do." She picked up two of the coffees, trying to balance them so she could grab the third.

Jordan picked it up before she could. "Let me help."

"I can get it," she said.

"I insist," he told her. "I don't want you burning yourself."

She stared at him for a moment, trying to ignore the pain in her chest as she was reminded of all the times he helped her carry food to the office because Stiles didn't want her to lose her balance. But she was supposed to be fine, at least to him.

She nodded stiffly, quickly walking out of the break room. He followed her, keeping up with her fast pace.

"Okay," she said, walking into the Sheriff's office. "Black for you, Cream and one sugar for you."

"Thanks," John said, taking his.

Lydia turned to Parrish to grab her coffee, her arm stopping halfway between them as dread pooled in her gut.

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

Her breathing became shaky, and she immediately felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Lyds, what's wrong?"

Stiles led her to the couch, sitting her down and crouching in front of her. "Lydia."

"I don't know," she said, closing her eyes as she tried to concentrate.

"Is it Melissa?" John asked.

She tried to get a hold on the feeling, trying to figure out if it was Melissa or not.

"It doesn't feel like it," she said, shaking her head slowly. "And it doesn't quite feel like death, either. It just feels…bad."

"Bad?" Stiles asked. "Okay, bad how?"

"I can't tell," she admitted.

"Okay," John nodded. "Can you tell who it is?"

She shook her head, trying to focus. She hated how unpredictable her abilities were. She had known exactly when Allison was in danger, and she knew that it was her. But now when she needed that again, it wouldn't work with her.

She couldn't save Allison, but now she needed to save whoever this was.

Her eyes flew open as it hit her, tears springing to her eyes as she looked at Stiles.

"It's Scott."

''''''''''

Scott go on his bike, waiting for Malia to pull out so he could follow her.

His phone rang, and he picked it up without checking the ID, hoping for some good news.

"Hello?" he greeted, putting the phone to his ear.

"Hi, Scottie."

His entire body stiffened at the voice on the other end. "What do you want, Kate?"

"You'd think you'd be a little more polite to the person who has your mom," she chided.

"Why did you take her?" he asked. "I know you want me, so why did you take her?"

"Well, it worked with Anaheim, right?" she asked. "Well, it didn't _end_ so well with her, but if she had the perk of enhanced hearing – like I do – it probably would've ended a lot differently. And I thought, since Lydia's little mutt isn't around anymore, that I would probably have more luck taking your mother."

Scott couldn't help the growl that was ripped from his throat. He heard Kate laugh over the phone.

"So you do have some of your mother's feistiness," she said. "You know, she's been keeping me entertained."

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice low and threatening. His wolf was coming through, and it was yelling at him to protect. Malia and Isaac got out of the car, confused looks on their faces.

"Well, I was thinking about taking some voltage to her –"

"No!" he yelled. "Don't! Just…just tell me what you want, and I'll do it, just don't hurt her."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

''''''''''

"I'm not letting you do this, Scott!" Malia yelled, grabbing his arm as he got back on his bike. She's be damned if she let him do this. "It's too dangerous!"

"I don't have a choice, Malia!" he insisted. "She has my _mom_! What am I supposed to do?"

"You think that she's just gonna let Melissa go?" she asked.

"It's me she wants!" Scott told her. "She blames me for Allison, and she should! I couldn't protect her! I couldn't save her! That's what Kate cares about! Not my mom."

He started the engine, reaching for his helmet. Malia grabbed it before he could.

"I'm not letting you go alone!"

"I have to!" he said, exasperated.

"So she can kill you?" she asked. "Because that's what's gonna happen! And what if she doesn't stop with you? What if she decides to kill your mom, too? What if she decides to go after all of us? I might not have been there with Allison, but everyone else was! You think that she only blames you? Even if she says that she won't, do you really trust her to keep her word? Because I might not know her very well, but I know that she would turn on her word so fast that she'll give you whip –"

"MALIA!" he yelled, his voice taking on an edge. Malia backed up out of instinct. "I have to do this. Let. Me. Do this."

Everything in her body screamed at her to listen to him, and against her better judgement, she handed him his helmet and stepped back.

"Thank you," He said, putting his helmet on. "And don't follow me. Either of you."

"You don't just get to pull the Alpha card," she told him bitterly, crossing her arms defiantly. Her coyote screamed at her to submit, but she was going to keep some semblance of dignity.

"You didn't give me a choice," he said, his voice softer. With that, he was turning onto the road, leaving Isaac and Malia in the rain.

''''''''''

"Damn it, Scott, answer your phone!"

"You calling him is not going to stop him."

"Well I can sure as hell try!"

"We don't even know what's going on."

"That's why he needs to answer his fucking phone!"

"Can everyone just please stop!"

Everyone looked at Lydia as she stood back up. The voices were starting, and she didn't need the ones with bodies attached to start yelling.

"Lydia, are you okay?" John asked, taking a few steps towards her.

"No!" she said, her voice breaking. "I am _not_ okay! I have a horrible feeling, and it's about Scott! So excuse me if I am not okay!"

She pressed her fingers to her temple, trying to focus on the voices. They had helped her before, maybe they could help her again.

"Lydia?" Stiles asked. "They started, haven't they?"

She nodded, increasing pressure on her temple.

"Okay," he said, his voice shaky. "Are they good or bad?"

"I can't tell," she told him, shaking her head. "They're all over the place, I can't make out anything."

The cacophony of noise slowly got louder, as if someone was turning up the volume. She needed to focus. She needed to get to Scott.

"Lydia if you need to scream –"

"I don't need to scream!" she said. "I just need to focus!"

"But screaming helps you focus, remember?" Stiles told her. "And if you need to focus by screaming, do it."

She opened her eyes, Stiles right in front of her. "Okay. Come with me."

He led her out into the hallway, taking her hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to ignore the headache that the voices were giving her.

"The shooting range," he admitted, walking fast. "It's not big, but it's soundproof."

He finally stopped in front of a door, opening it and leading her inside. It was a small room, with a counter, a wall of locked cabinets, and another door. He went straight for the door and ushered her in, where four stalls lined up in front of her, with plenty of space behind them for targets.

He shut the door, and looked at her, nodding. "You can scream now."

She took a deep breath, letting her power build for a moment before letting out an ear-piercing scream.

As the scream tapered out, the voices quieted, leaving definitive answers.

A hand gently rested on her lower back. "What's up?"

"I know where he is," she told him, ignoring the draining feeling that always accompanied the screams. "At least, I know where he's going."

* * *

 **As always, I love to know what you think!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Here's this week's chapter! Thank you everyone for the reviews and thoughts!**

 **Sidenote: I missed you Misssavvyxoxo! I've been wondering why I haven't seen you, but I'm glad you're caught up!**

* * *

Scott pulled up to the warehouse, dread settling in his stomach as he looked at the old, weathered spiral in the wall. The last time he had been there, he had been successful, but he had help then, too. He didn't know if he could win this time, if he was being honest, but if he could make sure his mom was safe than it was okay.

Walking up to the warehouse, he tried to calm his heartrate, because he knew that Kate would hear it. She didn't want him to think that he was scared. He was, but she didn't need to know that.

"Scott!" she called out when he walked through the door. "So glad that you could join us."

"You didn't give me much of a choice," he countered, his voice hard. "Let her go."

"Scott, don't do this!"

He looked to his mom, who had been tied to one of the support beams, her hands behind her back. She was struggling against her restraints, trying to get to him.

"It's me she wants," he told her, begging her to understand. "I'm the one she wants revenge on. I'm the one who couldn't save Allison."

Melissa stilled, disbelief filling her features. "Is that seriously the only reason that you want him dead? Because of Allison?"

Kate growled, turning to Melissa with glowing eyes. "Don't say that like it isn't important! My niece is dead because of your son! And I'm going to make sure he pays for it."

"Allison was there of her own free will," Melissa said. "She was there to protect her friend, and she would've been there whether Scott was involved or not, because that's the kind of person she was. She cared for her friends and would do anything to save them. That has nothing to do with Scott –"

"Don't talk about her like you know her!" Kate screamed, walking over to Melissa so fast that not even Scott could stop her. Kate grabbed her jaw roughly, causing Melissa to cry out.

"Let her go!" Scott yelled, his vision turning red as his claws came out. He moved to charge her, and Kate's hand moved to his mother's throat.

"Move any closer and I rip her throat out," she threatened, squeezing Melissa's neck. Scott stopped, his breathing heavy as he watched, helpless. Kate turned back to Melissa, loosening her hold, but only slightly. "Don't act like this isn't something worth doing, because it is. Not only did Allison die because of your mutt of a son, but my entire family has been _decimated_! Do you really think that I should just stand by and let this little bastard live?"

"Yes," Melissa said, her voice resolute and her face determined. "Because Scott didn't decimate your family. You decided to burn down the Hale house, sending Peter after you for revenge. Gerard decided to abandon the code and not only go after everyone, but to use the power that he despised to try to heal himself. You decimated your own family. Allison and Chris were the ones who picked themselves up and turned the disgrace that you had given them into a new code and a new honor, and Allison died a hero. But you? You're gonna die a hate-filled woman who can't own up to her wrongs."

Kate's hand tightened around Melissa's neck, cutting off her air supply.

"Let her go!" Scott roared, his commanding Alpha taking over. Surprisingly, she let go as her head snapped to him, leaving his mom gasping for air, but it seemed to be more out of surprise than anything.

"Well, Scottie," she said, taking a few steps towards him. "It looks like you've grown a pair."

"Just let her go," he demanded. "Let her go, and you can do whatever you want with me."

"Actually," she said, tilting her head to the side. "I think the plans have changed."

''''''''''

"We can't just go rushing in," Chris told the group. "She'll hear us coming a mile away."

They were all standing at the edge of the preserve, and Stiles was having to almost physically hold Lydia back from going to wherever Scott was. He wasn't sure how much of it was her abilities and how much of it was her worry for Scott herself.

"We have to do something!" she said, shifting from foot to foot. "We can't just let him go and die!"

"We're not going to," Derek assured her. "But we need a better plan than we had with Anaheim. The main reason that worked is because she didn't have our hearing. Kate does."

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Only a few of us go in," Chris explained. "It's less chance that she'll hear us."

"Well whoever else is going, I am, too," Lydia said.

Stiles looked at her, but before he could say anything, Malia spoke up.

"Are you insane?" she asked. "It's way too dangerous."

"I'm the one who knows where he is!" Lydia insisted. "I kind of _have_ to go."

"Then I'm going, too," Malia said, crossing her arms.

"We're not taking volunteers," Chris interrupted, before it got out of hand. "Derek, Lydia, and me will all go. The rest of you wait here and wait in case we need back-up."

"Why does Derek get to go?" Liam asked.

"Because I need people that I know can be stealthy," Chris told him. "We need as little noise as possible."

"Derek is a good creeper," Stiles shrugged. "But if Lydia's going, so am I."

He ignored the confused look that he got from Lydia.

"Yes," Derek nodded, raising an eyebrow at him. "Because you're so quiet and stealthy."

"Well, what do you suggest?" Stiles asked.

"That you let us go and you wait here, like Chris said," Derek suggested. "We don't have time to waste fighting if you want to save Scott."

Stiles wanted to argue, but he knew that Derek was right. They needed to save Scott.

"Okay," Chris spoke up. "Let's go."

''''''''''

"What do you mean 'the plans have changed'?" Scott growled, crouching into a fighting stance.

"I think that you should know how I felt," she admitted, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I do know how you felt!" he yelled. "You're not the only person who loved her! You're not the only one who still loves her! Just because you're blood doesn't mean that you hurt any more than anyone else! I lost her just like you did, and I was there when it happened! So don't tell me that I don't know how you felt!"

"But you don't!" she roared back. "You may have been her plaything for a while, but she was my niece! There is a huge difference! And I have to make sure her death is avenged."

"If you think that, than you don't care about Allison at all," he told her, taking a step forward. "She wouldn't want this!"

"And how the hell would you even know?"

"Because she's not you!" he yelled, exasperated. "Allison wouldn't want anyone to get revenge for her. She died saving her best friend, and she was okay with that. She told me that she was okay with it. So don't parade around acting like you're being this righteous avenger when Allison would think that you were crazy if she was here!"

A growl was ripped from Kate's throat, and she charged before he could prepare for it.

''''''''''

Derek followed Lydia, who was being surprisingly quiet despite her heels. He could still hear her steps, but it was quiet enough to where Kate wouldn't be able to.

Chris, however, was completely silent. So silent that Derek might forget he was there if he couldn't hear his heartbeat.

They stayed silent so they wouldn't alert Kate to their approach. Derek watched Lydia carefully, watching for the first sign of a scream or a fugue state, but all he could see was a broken girl that was a little too thin for her frame, and he had to wonder if she had been eating. To lose as much weight as she had in the past few weeks couldn't be healthy. Combined with the sadness that had constantly been radiating off of her, it definitely didn't help the worry that had been growing for her.

He knew that things weren't good for her – he didn't expect it, honestly – but he hadn't seen her much after she got out of the hospital. He had tried to visit her at home, but she had always been conveniently asleep, and it had resulted in awkward and tense conversations with her mother. As much as Lydia didn't blame Scott for anything, he wasn't sure that Natalie felt the same way.

So he had stopped going over, because she obviously didn't want to see him, but he was starting to think that she didn't want to have much to do with anyone, if the obvious discord between her and Stiles had been any indication. Yes, they had been working together – that's what they always did – but there was tension there that he hadn't seen before. He knew that she hadn't been talking to Stiles, the boy had told him as much, but to think there might be something seriously wrong between them wasn't good.

Derek was pulled out of his thoughts when a gasp came from Lydia, and she sped up her pace, making more noise in the process.

Quickly, Derek caught up to her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her. She turned to him, anger clear on her features as she tried to pull her arm out of his grip. He raised an eyebrow at her, pointing to her feet before putting his finger in front of his lips.

She glared at him for a moment, and he noticed her heart beating faster than it was a moment ago.

He leaned down, getting as close to her ear as possible to whisper. "What's wrong?"

"The feeling just got worse," she whispered, barely audible, even to him. "We have to get to him _now._ "

"Okay," he said.

''''''''''

Scott's back hit the ground hard as Kate lunged at him, landing on top of him with a feral look in her eye. Her hand reached back, claws out, but he caught it as she swung, twisting it with as much force as he could muster. She cried out in pain, and he pushed her off of him before getting up himself.

"I don't want to fight you, Kate," he said as she shook out her arm, looking irate. "Allison wouldn't want this."

"Don't tell me what she'd want!" she screamed. Charging him again, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and threw him, sending him crashing into the stack of rebar.

He groaned, his head ringing from the impact. He tried to catch his breath, but by the time he did, Kate was standing over him and placed her boot on his chest to keep him down. He gasped in pain as the pressure increased in his sternum, making it harder to breathe.

"SCOTT!" Melissa cried. He couldn't see her, and a part of him prayed that she didn't see him. This wasn't something that she needed to see.

Kate smirked as he gasped for air, twirling a piece of rebar in her hand. "You know, it isn't a sword, but I think that it'll do."

She brought it up quickly before driving it right below his ribcage, the pain causing Scott to cry out.

He didn't have to see his mother to recognize her anguished cry.

Kate leaned down, looking him straight in the eye as she twisted the piece of metal further into him. "Since you claim that you know how I felt, now you can know how Allison felt."

''''''''''

"Stiles, will you stop pacing?"

"I'll stop pacing when they're all back here safe."

Liam sighed and leaned up against the car. "We're all worried, Stiles."

"Yeah?" he asked, stopping his pacing only long enough to look at the boy. "Well, some of us tend to express their concern differently. How long have you known me?"

Kira stepped in, placing a hand on Stiles' arm. "I think what Liam is saying is that he doesn't want you to over-worry, which you can tend to do. We've beat Kate before. We can do it again."

"How do we know she'll stay gone this time?" he asked.

"We don't," she told him. "But it'll be okay. I have faith in them. Just…don't worry so much."

"Well, the last time I didn't worry so much, it didn't end well," he muttered, resuming his pacing. He didn't miss the look of understanding on Kira and Liam's face, though. Instead of looking at them, he looked at Malia and Isaac, who were standing on the other side of the road, listening for some kind of signal.

"Anything?" he asked them, walking over to them.

"No," Isaac said, shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Damn it," he breathed.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Malia asked, confused. "We're the back-up in case it goes to shit."

"I know," he nodded. "I just want them back here already."

"Yeah," Isaac nodded. "You're not the only one getting antsy."

"Antsy?" Stiles asked. "Who uses 'antsy' anymore? The French I'm guessing."

Isaac looked at him, his annoyance obvious. "Can you please go back to pacing?"

"With pleasure."

''''''''''

All three of them heard the crash coming from the warehouse as it came into view, and they didn't even hesitate to look at each other. They just ran. Lydia couldn't help the dread that intensified as she ran.

When they got there, Kate stood over Scott towards the back of the room, leaning down over him as Melissa cried out for her son.

That was when Lydia noticed the piece of metal that Kate held in her hands, disappearing into Scott's torso.

"NO!" she screamed, running towards the pair. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose Scott, too.

Kate whipped around, her eyes lighting up as she smirked, crouching down into a fighting stance.

"Lydia, get down!"

She didn't hesitate. She kneeled down, placing her arms over her head as she crouched. A gunshot went off, and she heard Kate cry out.

"You think that's gonna stop me?" Kate asked, and Lydia peeked up to see the woman sneering at her brother. "A wolfsbane bullet didn't stop me."

"Yeah, I'm still trying to figure out how that worked out," Chris said, keeping the gun trained on her.

"Someone who knew what they were doing decided to take pity on me," she told him, taking a step towards the group. Lydia's gaze was drawn to Scott, who was taking shaky breaths as he grasped the rebar and tried to pull it out. It gave slightly, and Scott clenched his teeth together to hold in his groan.

She needed to get to him. But first, Kate needed to get away from him.

Slowly, she stood up, watching as Kate and Chris interacted with each other.

"Well, then they didn't know what mistake they were making," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You really want your own sister dead?" she asked, her eyes widening in mock surprise.

"You haven't been the sister I know for a long time," he admitted.

Lydia couldn't keep her eyes off of Scott, and she knew that she needed to get over there. He was losing too much blood. He wasn't going to heal if they didn't get that rebar out, and he couldn't get the leverage to do it himself.

"Step aside," Derek told Kate, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What, so you can save him?" she asked. "I don't think so."

"He's not to blame for Allison," Chris said. "If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself."

"Me?" she asked. "I wasn't even there!"

"But you were the one who introduced her to our world!" he yelled. "You were the one that started her on this path, so if you want to blame somebody, blame yourself!"

"I'm not the one who let a werewolf get into her pants!" she countered. "Besides, she was going to find out eventually, since you had _insisted_ on moving to Beacon Hills. I was just trying to prepare her. And now you're here being Scott McCall's little bitch. If you had killed him like you were supposed to, none of this would've happened!"

"Then come after me!" he challenged, lowering the gun and holding out his arms. "If I'm to blame, come after me!"

"I don't think you want me to do that," she warned.

"Why not?" he asked. "You had no problem killing our father."

"That's because he stood in my way," she told him.

Chris gave her a smirk. "What do you think I'm doing?"

Quicker than Lydia thought possible, Chris brought the gun back up and shot at her, shooting her in the shoulder. She growled, clutching her shoulder as she glared at him.

"Next one's in the head," he told her. "Unless you stop me."

She charged him, knocking the gun out of his hand and taking a swipe at him.

Lydia ignored the fight, knowing that Derek would help him. She began running towards Scott, whose grip was loosening on the metal sticking out of him.

Ignoring the rolling in her stomach, she grabbed the rebar and braced herself. "I'm sorry, this is gonna hurt."

She pulled as hard as she could, the piece of metal sliding out. He cried out in pain, and she threw the rebar to the side before kneeling down to put pressure on the wound.

"I'm sorry!" she said as he groaned at the pressure. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," he forced out, his voice weaker than she was comfortable with. "Now it can heal."

"I don't think it's fatal," she told him. "Well, for you, anyway. But we still have to stop the bleeding."

"I can feel it already," he told her. "Just keep pressure."

She nodded, shooting him a smile and ignoring the blood that stained his lips. It had been really close, but she could tell that the bleeding was slowing down already.

"Lydia!"

She felt a hand wrap around her hair and pull, dragging her away from Scott as she screamed

She landed hard as Kate tossed her like a rag doll, looming over her with a feral look in her eyes.

"So you can save him, but not Allison?" she growled.

"I tried to save her," Lydia told her, her anger flaring. "Just like I'm trying to save Scott. Because that's what we do."

Lydia spared a glance over at Chris, who was on the floor, holding his side. Derek looked like he was about to charge, but Lydia shook her head minutely. Not yet.

"Well you failed," Kate spat. "Just like you're gonna fail with Scott. Just like you failed with your little bastard mutt."

Lydia couldn't begin to describe the anger that filled her as she looked at the sneer on Kate's face. The woman turned around to head back to Scott, who was trying and failing to get up with rage set on his face. Lydia shot up faster than she ever had in her life, and completely on instinct, threw her hands out and let out a scream.

A bright white light came out of Lydia's hands, hitting Kate and knocking her several feet off course from Scott, her head making contact with one of the beams keeping the building up.

Unfortunately, it didn't knock Kate out, but Lydia just glared at her as the woman attempted to get her bearings back. Her anger was so high that she barely acknowledged the fact that she had never done anything like that before.

"The only reason that my daughter is dead is because of _you_ ," Lydia explained, the venom in her voice scaring even her. "You're the one who killed Gerard. _You're_ the reason that I wasn't safe at home. You have no right to use her against me."

Kate just laughed, looking up at her with something like amusement in her eyes. "I didn't know that telling the truth is using something against you. You should know better than to bring a child into this life. How many people have died because of your _precious_ Alpha? You should've known that the mutt wouldn't make it."

Lydia brought her hands back up, but a figure rushed past her, picking Kate up by the neck.

"Shut the fuck up," Derek growled, squeezing her neck and drawing blood from his claws. She brought her hands up to his, trying to pry it off, but he only squeezed harder.

"Go," Chris told Lydia, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Get Scott and Melissa out of here. We'll take care of her."

She looked between the two men for a moment, finally dropping the metal and running over to Scott.

"Can you walk?" she asked him. He nodded, and Melissa appeared at her side. Chris must have gotten her loose.

They got on either side of Scott and helped him stand up, walking out of the warehouse as a metal crash resounded throughout the building, signaling that Derek had thrown Kate.

''''''''''

"What the hell?"

Stiles made his way over to them as they approached the tree-line, his eyes widening at the blood on all of them.

"Don't worry," Scott told him, his voice still weaker than Lydia liked. "It's all mine."

"That doesn't make it any better!" Stiles countered. "Are you okay? I mean, of course you're not okay, you look like you should have bled out –"

"I'm alive, Stiles," he assured, leaning up against the Jeep "I'm just tired."

"Where's Derek and Chris?" Isaac asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Taking care of Kate," Melissa told him, fussing over her son. "Don't ask me what it means. I don't know."

Lydia noticed Kira standing off to the side, patiently waiting to get to Scott despite the longing in her eyes. She walked over to the girl, who gave her a small smile.

"He's okay?" Kira asked, trying and failing to hide her worry.

Lydia nodded. "He's healing. He'll be okay."

The girl's shoulders slumped in relief, as tears filled her eyes.

"Go see him," Lydia told her. "I promise you won't be interrupting."

Hesitantly, Kira nodded and made her way over to him. As soon as he saw her, his eyes lit up, and when she got close enough, he reached out and pulled her to him. She buried her head in his shoulder, ignoring the blood on his shirt as he rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. Lydia couldn't help the way her heart warmed at the sight.

"Hey," Stiles said, coming to stand next to her.

"Hey," she said, giving him a small smile.

He looked at her for a moment, worry coloring his features.

"Stiles, I'm fine," she told him. "I promise."

He nodded slowly, seeming to be contemplating something. Before she could ask him, he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her as he buried his face in her hair.

"God, Lyds, I was so worried," he admitted, his voice thick. She melted into his embrace, not realizing just how much she missed it until then. She honestly wasn't sure the last time she had let him hold her like this the past couple of weeks. She hugged him back just as hard, taking in his warmth.

"You had nothing to be worried about," she said. "I took care of myself just fine."

Her mind went back to the burst of energy that had come from her. It was something that she would have to figure out, but she didn't have to figure it out tonight.

"I knew you would," he told her. "But it didn't stop me from worrying."

"I know," she nodded, resting her head on his chest.

Lydia's stomach dropped, and she lifted her head to look in the direction of Chris and Derek.

"What?" Stiles asked. "What's wrong?"

The crack of a gunshot sounded in the distance, and everyone turned to the sound.

"That was Mr. Argent, right?" Liam asked. "He's the only one who had a gun."

"Unless it got into somebody else's hands," Malia suggested. Lydia raised an eyebrow at her. "Sorry. Not helping."

Stiles jumped as his phone chirped, signaling a text message.

"It's Derek," he said, reading the message. "He said 'it's over.'"

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	26. Chapter 26

**Here's this week's chapter! As always, I want to thank you guys for your reviews and likes. They really help me when I'm stuck!**

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Derek and Isaac buried Kate in her grave at Beacon Hills Cemetery, Isaac insisting on digging the grave since he was the only one who knew how to do it right. It took some time, and a call to the Sheriff to make sure no cops thought that they were grave-robbing – which was the exact opposite of what they were doing – but it got done.

After they were done, Derek dropped Isaac off at the McCall's, Derek needing to get back to the loft to check on Braeden and how she was doing. Malia had been waiting for him, assuring him that Scott was okay and sleeping in his room with Kira acting as his nurse.

Isaac turned his attention back to Malia, who was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"So…" she said, looking at him curiously. "Am I allowed to ask you why you know how to dig a cemetery grave?"

"I used to be a grave-digger, believe it or not," he admitted, sitting next to her on the bed. "My dad owned the cemetery when he was still alive, and I helped a lot."

"Oh," she nodded.

She was silent, and Isaac didn't know what to say to break it. Now that they didn't have a threat to worry about, the only thing they had was the awkwardness between them – or rather, the awkward sexual tension between them – and he wasn't sure how to navigate it.

"You like me, right?" she asked suddenly, looking forward. "I mean, you act like you do, and you smell like you do, but you've never said anything definite, so I'm really not sure…"

She trailed off, looking down at the floor and biting her lip. He stared at her for moment, unsure how to answer her question.

He liked her, he really did. But there was still that little voice in the back of his head that said it wasn't right, even though he knew that it was.

Apparently, he was quiet for too long, because she stood up and started walking towards the door. "You know what, forget I said anything. It was stupid."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It's not. I – I do like you."

She stopped and nodded, slowly turning back around. "Well, you already know that I like you."

"Yeah," he said. "I do."

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, took another deep breath, and opened her mouth again. "I don't…I don't want to sound like the stereotypical, insecure girl, but, uh… _why_ do you like me?"

He looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, walking back to the bed and sitting down, rubbing her hands together as she thought. He could smell the anxiety coming off of her, and his confusion grew.

"I've already been through the whole 'I like you, but I'm only dating you because I can't be with the person I really want,' and I don't wanna do that again," she admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I love Stiles and Lydia, and I think that they're perfect for each other. But…I don't know. The whole time that he was with me – he liked me – but he also thought that Lydia didn't feel the same way for him, and was trying to get over her the same time he was dating me. It doesn't feel too great when you realize that, you know?

"So, I guess what I mean is…do you only like me because I don't remind you of Allison?"

His stomach dropped as he looked at her, realizing what it must have looked like. There were a lot of girls in Beacon Hills, but she was the only one that he didn't know before Allison. And she's the one he liked.

"That's not it at all," he told her. "I was with Allison when Scott helped you shift back. So it's not that you don't remind me of Allison. I like you because…well, because you're kind of awesome."

The corners of her lips turned up in a small smile as she rubbed her palms on her jeans. "Okay."

"And I don't want to be with you just because I can't be with someone else," he continued. "I just wanna be with you. But I'm still working through some things. I'm still not completely sure what I had with Allison, because we never got much of a chance, but I'm still working through it. I thought France would help, but it really didn't, and I don't think that it would be fair to you to start something when I'm still trying to work out everything."

"So you wanna be with me," she said slowly. "But not yet?"

"Is that okay?" he asked, suddenly nervous. He didn't want to ruin things with her before they even got started.

"Yeah," she assured, taking his hand and squeezing it. "I appreciate that. I know that it can't be easy, so…just take your time, okay?"

He squeezed back, giving her a smile. "Okay."

''''''''''

Melissa zipped up her first-aid kit, then started picking up all the trash that she had made patching Chris up. She heard him on the phone in the living room, but didn't try to eavesdrop. She knew that he was talking to the Calaveras and did _not_ want to get involved in that.

"Do you need any help?" Stiles asked, standing at the counter. She couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. How tired he always seemed to look lately.

"I think I've got it," she told him. "You should probably go home. Get some rest."

"I'm not leaving until I know for sure that Scott's gonna be okay," Stiles insisted.

"He'll be fine," she assured, throwing the last of the gauze wrappers into the trash. "He's already almost healed."

"I don't care," he said, leaning on the counter and looking at his hands. "I'll leave when he's back to normal."

"Then at least sleep here," she told him. "You look like you're about to fall over."

"I'm fine," he said automatically. Melissa's eyes narrowed, and she leaned on the counter to look him in the eye.

"You're not fine," she insisted. "You haven't been fine for a long time, as much as you act like you are, and everything that's happened the past few weeks has only made it worse. I know you act like you are because there's usually some big threat or big bad, but there isn't one right now. You don't have to pretend."

He refused to look at her, continuing to stare down at his hands. "It doesn't matter what I feel right now."

"Honey, yes it does," she told him, taking his hand.

"Not according to Lydia," he muttered, his voice so low that she barely heard him.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "It's not important right now. What's important is that Scott's okay."

The door opened, Lydia pulling the phone away from her ear and ending the call. "My mom's all caught up. She said to tell you that she hopes Scott is okay."

Melissa had known that there was tension between Stiles and Lydia, but she hadn't been around them very much the past week or so. But now that they were in the same room, you could cut the tension with a knife.

"Thank you," Melissa told her, giving her a smile.

She nodded, looking at Stiles for a moment before looking back at Melissa. "I should probably go home. Mom seemed pretty worried, so…"

"Of course, sweetheart," Melissa said. "Go get some rest."

"I'll come over in the morning," Lydia promised.

She made her way to the front door, not saying a word to Stiles. Melissa glanced at him for a moment – he was still stubbornly looking at his hands – before following Lydia.

"Sweetheart," she asked quietly, as not to disturb Chris' phone call in the living room. "Are you okay?"

Lydia nodded, pulling her jacket on and grabbing her purse. "I'm okay. I'm not the one who almost died tonight, so I'd have to say that I'm doing well."

"I meant with you and Stiles," she clarified, watching carefully as Lydia tensed.

"We've been better," she admitted after a moment. "But I screwed up, and I have to let him be mad at me."

"Screwed up?" Melissa asked. "Honey, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Lydia said, her voice breaking. Melissa didn't miss the tears that had formed in the young girl's eyes. "I don't know what's going on with Stiles and me, I don't even know what's going on with myself. I just…I don't know."

"Lydia –"

"Just don't worry about it," Lydia told her, opening the front door. "What's going on with Stiles and me is something that I brought on myself, so I need to deal with it. Just…worry about Scott right now, okay?"

With that she closed the door, leaving Melissa more confused than before.

''''''''''

Kira looked down at Scott, marveling at how beautiful he was when he slept.

The worry that never seemed to leave him in his waking hours was gone from his face, and he simply looked peaceful. He was never peaceful anymore, and she loved to watch the rare moments where he was.

This wasn't the first time that she had watched him sleep, but she could honestly say that it never got old.

Gently, she ran a hand through his hair, watching as he shifted into her touch. She looked down at his bare torso, lifting up the bandage to see the wound that Kate had given him. It was almost healed, looking like Kate had barely grazed him. It still amazed her how fast werewolves could heal.

"Like what you see?"

She looked back to his face to see him looking at her, giving her a sleepy smile.

"Not really," she told him, placing the bandage back onto the wound. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry about it," he said, tightening his arm around her. "I'll probably go back to sleep soon, and you need to get some sleep, too. We have school in the morning."

"You think that you're going to school tomorrow?" she asked him, raising a stern eyebrow at him. "That's funny."

"We have a review in the morning," he argued.

"I don't care," she said. "You're resting tomorrow, and I'm pretty sure that your mom would agree. You know, the registered nurse."

He groaned, rubbing her back as she snuggled closer to him. "I really need to pass this class, Kira."

"And you will," she promised, resting a hand on his chest. "I'll go to class and tell you everything that we reviewed, okay? I'll even take extensive notes."

"You always take extensive notes," he told her.

"Then you'll have no problem," she said, giving him a grin and leaning down for a kiss.

"Fine," he said when they pulled out of the kiss. "I'll stay home. But it will be boring without you."

"Well someone has to take the review," she shrugged. "Besides, you'll have plenty to do around here."

"Like what?" he asked, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"There's your X-Box, you have a computer, other homework," she listed off. "Or, you could always watch Star Wars."

He chuckled, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead as he closed his eyes. "I might just do that."

"Good," she said, resting her head on his chest. She felt his breathing slow as he fell back to sleep, and the reassuring movement that he was alive and on his way to well lulled her to unconsciousness.

''''''''''

Chris walked back into the kitchen, putting his phone back into his pocket. "Well, that's taken care of."

"Does that mean you don't have to deal with the Calaveras anymore?" Stiles asked.

"No," he said. "At least, not for a while."

"Are you saying that we might have to deal with them in the future?"

"It's always a possibility," Chris told him. "Especially in Beacon Hills."

"Great," Stiles groaned, dropping his head onto the table. "Just what we need right now."

Too much shit had already happened lately. If he had to see any of them, he would punch them in the face.

He would probably end up dead, but that wasn't the point.

The back door opened, his dad stepping through and closing it shut.

"Hey," he said, coming over to stand by his son. "Everything okay?"

"Great," Stiles said. "Scott is asleep and healing. Kate is taken care of, and the Calaveras have been filled in."

"Good to know," John told him. He looked to Chris. "How are you holding up?"

"Pretty good," Chris told him. "Melissa patched me up, told me to take it easy, and that's exactly what I plan on doing."

"What about Kate?" he asked. "She was still your sister."

Chris leaned against the counter, his brows furrowed as he thought. "I grieved my sister almost two years ago. Even then, she wasn't who I thought she was. The Kate that I saw tonight? I barely recognized her. So, not surprisingly, I'm doing okay."

Melissa came back into the kitchen, changed in the pajamas for the night. "Hey, John. What are you doing here?"

"I just got off shift and wanted to see how everybody was doing," he told her.

"Well," she said, opening the cabinet and pulling out some glasses. "That means that you can stay for a drink. Lord knows we all need one."

"As much as I would love that," Chris said. "I should head out. Go take it easy."

"You're sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Thank you for everything, though."

He gave her a quick hug before heading out, leaving Stiles with Melissa and his dad.

Melissa poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one off to John. Then she went to the fridge and pulled out a Dr. Pepper and gave it to Stiles. He opened it and took a drink, keeping his gaze on the counter.

"Where's Lydia?" his dad asked him.

"She went home," he said, studying the can in front of him. "Said that her mom seemed pretty worried."

He nodded, his brow creasing in confusion. "I thought that she would stay here with Scott."

"You would think," Stiles said, shrugging.

"Now that her mom's in the know, I can understand her wanting to be able to explain everything," Melissa told them, taking a drink. "Especially considering Natalie is still pretty freaked out about it all."

"She is?" Stiles asked.

Melissa nodded. "Of course. It's only been a couple of months since she found out. I was freaked out, too. I'm _still_ freaked out. Worrying about everyone, if they're going to be okay even though there's nothing you can do to help. It's nerve-wracking."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "Especially after everything that's happened since she found out."

There was a moment of silence, and he knew that Melissa and his dad were silently communicating. It was something they had gotten good at over the years when dealing with him and Scott. They had dealt with each other's kids for so long, they might as well have moved in and started officially co-parenting.

"Yeah," John finally said. "Especially with that."

"Does she blame us?" Stiles asked, tapping his thumb against the counter quickly. "Does she blame us for being a part of all of this?"

"I honestly don't know," Melissa told him. "If she does, she hasn't told me."

"I do," he admitted, his chest growing tight. "I blame us. I blame me."

There was another moment of silence, but Stiles continued to study the red can. He didn't know why he had said that, other than the fact that it had been festering inside of him for weeks. He had blamed himself. Because if they weren't a part of all things supernatural in Beacon Hills, than he would be decorating a nursery right now.

"You shouldn't," Melissa told him. "You shouldn't blame yourself. Car accidents happen, Stiles, no matter what you're involved in."

"I know," he said. "But if Scott and I had never got involved in this in the first place –"

"You didn't have a choice," she snapped, causing Stiles to look at her. "You were dragged into it. All of you were dragged into it somehow. None of you had a choice in the matter. Even if you did, it's not like you can just go back in time and do something about it. So stop blaming yourself for something that got started years ago, because it's not going to help anybody, okay?"

He continued to look at her, unsure of what to say. It made sense. He couldn't go back and change the past, but he couldn't just shake the feeling of blame either.

"Okay," he finally said, nodding.

"Okay," she nodded, straightening back up. "I'm gonna go check on Scott, and you guys need to get some rest. I don't care where, you can crash on the kitchen table for all I care, but we all need some rest."

She downed the rest of her drink, slamming the cup on the table before heading upstairs.

John was silent for a few seconds before looking at his son. "So…couch or chair?"

''''''''''

Lydia closed the door to the house, turning on her phone's light to be able to see. She toed off her heels, sighing in relief when her feet were free from them.

"Lydia?"

It sounded like her mom was in the kitchen, and she noticed the dim light of the stove hood coming down the hall.

"It's me," she called back, making her way down the hall. Her body protested as she walked past the stairs that would take her to her bed so she could sleep. "What are you doing still up?"

Her mother met her in the doorway, wrapping her into a hug. Surprised, it took Lydia a moment to hug her back, but she squeezed just as tight as her mother.

"I was so worried," Natalie told her, rubbing her back. "About all of you."

"I'm okay, Mom," she assured, slowly pulling out of the hug to look at her. "We're all okay."

"I know," her mom nodded. "But it doesn't keep me from worrying."

"You don't need to worry," Lydia told her, walking to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. "Well, I take that back. You have every reason to worry in situations like this, but we usually get out okay."

"Usually," Natalie sighed, leaning against the island. "That's what I'm worried about."

"Mom." She put the bottle down on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "We all got out okay."

"This time," her mom countered. "It doesn't happen every time."

"Mom –"

"No, Lydia!" she said, cutting Lydia off. "Of all the people that this town has lost that past couple of years, I know that a lot of it has to do with what you're involved in. I'm not sure who was in the know and who all was collateral damage, but a lot of people have died, Lydia! People that you went to school with! People that you were friends with! Allison, Aiden, and most recently –"

"Don't!" Lydia snapped, anger filling her in an instant as tears filled her eyes. "Don't you dare bring her into this."

"You and I both know that it's the truth, Lydia," Natalie continued, tears in her own eyes. "You are a part of something that you can't always handle, and you have lost too many people. People important to you. Important to me. You can't pretend like you'll make it out every time, because the past indicates otherwise."

"Than what do you suggest?" Lydia asked. "I know how dangerous it is, I live it! But what else am I supposed to do?"

"Step away!" she said. "You lost your daughter, Lydia – my granddaughter. After you were _promised_ that she would be protected! But as much as they tried, they couldn't do it, because you're all just a bunch of kids who don't know what they're doing! I thought maybe that you would step back, but here you are, in the thick of it again!"

"You think I have a choice?" Lydia snapped. "I didn't look for this, Mom! It found me! I didn't want this, none of us did! The only person who even _might_ have a choice to walk away is Stiles, and that's because he's human. You forget that I'm _not_. I'm a Banshee, just like grandma!"

"You could still step away –"

"No, I can't!" she yelled. "You don't get it, do you? I felt that something was wrong with Scott, and how close to death he came, and I literally could not stop myself from going after him! It's a Banshee's instinct to find someone who's going to die, or to scream and find the body when they do! I will always be in the thick of it, Mom! I don't have any choice in this!"

She didn't realize how loud her voice had gotten until the ringing silence settled around them. Natalie looked at her, almost shocked, and Lydia continued.

"Yes, I have lost people," she said, quieter this time as tears spilled over. "And yes, I…I lost Addyson. But this isn't something that I can walk away from whenever it gets hard. If that was the case, I would've done it after Jackson left. In fact, I tried. But it just dragged me back in. But now? Now I know that I can help people. And maybe I couldn't save Addyson, but I have saved people. I helped save Scott tonight. So don't insult me by telling me to step away instead of making the best of this curse that I've been given just because you're bitter."

She walked out of the kitchen then, exhausted, angry, and overall done. Her mother had no right to say any of what she did. Worry was no excuse.

It didn't help that Natalie was still blaming the Pack for everything that happened with Addyson, even if she didn't say it. That conversation said it all.

But Lydia had been right. Yes, they had lost people, but they had saved a lot of people, too. It didn't make the losses hurt any less, but it was the reality. And Lydia was able to save Scott tonight. She had been able to save one of her best friends, and they had won. That was real. That was the truth.

As she slammed her bedroom door, she couldn't help but notice the fact that tonight hadn't changed anything. The person responsible for Addyson's death was dead, and Scott was alive and well. Hell, she had even apparently developed a new ability. She should be at least relieved.

But she didn't feel anything.

She fell into bed, leaving her thoughts and issues for her more-rested self, falling asleep not long after her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Now that all of the big bad stuff if taken care of, I'm still going to have a few chapters to show the aftermath of everything, and focusing on relationships and such.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Stiles stood in front of the building, trying to build up the nerve to actually go in.

He wasn't afraid, he wasn't. He just wasn't sure how to handle the fact that he would probably be the youngest guy in there. But he knew that the needed to go in there. It would help him to go in there. To talk to people who would understand. But despite knowing that, he just stood there, wondering if it was actually a good idea.

"Can I help you with something?"

Stiles turned around, seeing a guy walking across the parking lot to Stiles. The guy looked to be in his early thirties, with clean-cut dark blonde hair. He was wearing a button-down and slacks, and Stiles immediately felt underdressed in his jeans and hoodie.

"Maybe?" Stiles said, unsure. "I don't know."

"Are you here for the support group?" the man asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"I…" he said, glancing down at his hands. "I, uh, don't…know, yet."

The man nodded in understanding. "It's okay to be nervous, you know. It's really hard to go in there the first time."

Stiles didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded.

"I mean," he continued, scratching his temple as he talked. He seemed to be nervous as well. "We spend so much time being strong, that most people don't understand how much we're hurting, too. But I can tell you right now that every guy in there is going to understand. So if that's what you're worried about…don't."

"I'm not as worried about that as I am being the only teenager in there," Stiles admitted. He didn't miss the look of pity that the man gave him before composing himself again. "I know it's stupid, but it just…it's kind of nerve-wracking, you know?"

"I can understand that," he said. "But if you're worried about people looking at you differently because of your age, you don't have to be. If it really bothers you, though, you don't have to tell anybody how old you are."

Stiles looked up at the building for a moment before nodding. This was going to be good for him. It had to be.

''''''''''

Lydia stared at her phone, reading the text that she had sent over and over again.

 _Can we talk?_

She had sent it to Stiles just a few minutes ago, and she wasn't even sure if it was a good idea. She wasn't completely sure what she was going to say to him. After everything, she wasn't sure he even wanted to talk to her. Yes, he had been worried about her last week, and they had felt almost normal. But once Scott was safe, all of the tension came rushing back full-force, and she had to leave because she couldn't handle it.

But she missed him. She missed him so much it hurt. She knew that after their argument that she didn't really deserve to miss him, but she did. There was a reason why she said she didn't care, and maybe he didn't know what it was, but she had an idea. Only, she had been denying it, hoping that it would get better.

It wasn't.

She knew that something was wrong with her, and the past few days without having to worry about anything other than her grief had only made those feelings stronger. She needed to talk to him about it. To let him know what was possibly going on, but the guilt from their conversation had stopped her until now.

In a moment of bravery she had typed out the text and hit send before she chickened out, and after ten minutes of no response, she wished that she could take it back. Because she could handle no contact – just barely, but she could handle it – but full out rejection? She wasn't sure that was something that she could handle. But that's what it felt like right now.

With a sigh, she placed her phone screen-down on the desk and pulled out her biology homework to try and take her mind off of Stiles.

''''''''''

Derek tightened the connection on the pipe, careful not to use too much force on it. That was the reason he had to replace the pipe instead of just the connection in the first place.

Once it was tightened, he crawled out of the cabinet and cleaned up his tools.

"All right, Mrs. Johnson," he said, giving the elderly woman a small smile. "All fixed. Sorry about getting water everywhere."

"You're fine," she told him. "Besides, you cleaned it up, which is more than I can say about my last landlord."

Derek chuckled. "Glad to know that I'm a step up."

"Well, it should go without saying," she said, waving off his comment as she walked to the kitchen. He followed her as she continued talking. "You're probably the best landlord I've had since Winston passed. Being the wife of a good landlord makes you extremely particular about how other landlords operate."

"Then I'm even more flattered," he admitted. With him being gone so much that last few months, he had been worried that the residents would hate him, but at least Mrs. Johnson was still satisfied with him.

"You should be," she assured him. "You're a damn fine landlord! Do you want some cake?"

"I really shouldn't," he told her. "I have a few things to do at home, and Braeden's waiting for me."

"Well, then take some for the road," Mrs. Johnson insisted. "I'll even throw in a slice for Braeden."

"All right," he nodded. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," she said, waving his words off again as she grabbed a container. "I can't finish this whole thing by myself, now can I?" She cut into the tube-shaped cake, placing the slices in the container. "So, when are you going to marry that Braeden? She seems like a lovely girl."

Derek couldn't help the blush that found its way to his cheeks. "That's, uh…that's up to her. If she even wants to marry me."

"The only way to find out is to ask her," she told him, snapping the lid on the container. "But if you ask me…well, I've seen the way she looks at you when she comes with you sometimes, and that's the kinda look a woman gives the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with."

She handed him the container and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Thank you," he said. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Any time, darling," she said. "I've been around for a while now. I like to think I know a few things."

"Have a good night, Mrs. Johnson," Derek told her as they made their way towards the door.

"Oh, I will," she told him. "You, too."

Finishing his goodbyes, he made his way back up the stairs, heading to the loft as the woman's words played through his head.

 _That's the kinda look a woman gives the man she wants to spend the rest of her life with._

He knew that she loved him – she had told him so many times – but to hear someone else see that they saw it was different. After Kate and Jennifer, he had been sure that he would never find someone to settle down with. He had horrible taste in women, and didn't really trust his instinct on them after that.

But Braeden was different. She had some of the same attributes as the "type" of woman he tended to go for – strong, smart, could kill you without even trying – without the drive for revenge that Jennifer had, or the straight up crazy that Kate had been. Despite the fact that she was a mercenary, and had openly said that she would kill anyone if the paycheck was enough, she had been consistent with her loyalty to Scott and the Pack. To him. So he had long since stopped looking for the other shoe to drop and for her to turn on them.

Marriage was a whole different monster, though. He didn't know if he was ready for that, or if she was either. It hadn't come up, and both of them were okay with that. They were just happy being with each other, and as long as that was the case, Derek was okay.

"Did you get the pipe fixed?" Braeden asked from the couch, looking up from her book. She loved reading just as much as he did. One of the many things he loved about her.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Even got some cake for dessert."

"Is that her Vanilla Wafer cake?" she asked, her eyes lighting up in interest.

"One and the same," he smiled. He looked around as he heard a strong heartbeat from within the apartment. One that didn't belong to Braeden.

"Hope you grabbed a slice for me."

He looked towards the kitchen, where his little sister leaned against the doorjamb with a beer in her hands.

"Cora?" he asked, surprised. He hadn't talked to her in a few weeks, but she had said nothing about coming to visit Beacon Hills.

"Surprise," she said, the corner of her lips lifting up in a smirk.

''''''''''

Stiles stirred his coffee, standing by the table of refreshments.

They were taking a break, and Stiles knew that he was going to have to say something when they regrouped. After listening to some of these guys and how open they were, it wouldn't feel right to not say anything.

He seemed to be the guy with the most recent loss, though, and he wasn't sure he wouldn't become a mess if he even tried.

"You doing okay?"

He looked up to see the guy who had convinced him to come inside – his name was Evan, he found out – looking at him with a brow raised in question. "Yeah, I'm good."

"You kinda spaced there for a second," Evan told him. "You know, you don't have to say anything on your first night. We won't mind."

"No, I want to," Stiles assured him. "I'm just trying to figure out what to say."

"Start from the beginning," Evan suggested. "Everything else will follow."

The leader of the group – Stiles thought his name was Jason – called everyone back over to the sitting area, and Stiles' heart sped up as he sat down again. Should he really talk? Did they even care?

He caught Evan's eye, and the man nodded reassuringly at him, giving him a small smile.

"Who wants to go next?" Jason asked. Before he could lose his nerve, Stiles raised his hand halfway. Jason nodded, gesturing to him. "Go ahead."

Stiles hesitated, trying to figure out how to start. Evan nodded to him again. _Start from the beginning._

"We weren't planning on getting pregnant," he started out, leaning forward and looking down. "Kids were the last thing on our mind. We were worrying about senior year, and getting into Stanford, not…babies. I was terrified when I found out. We weren't ready to be parents, but we decided to keep her anyway. We thought that we could do it, especially with the help of our family and friends. I actually got really excited for it, you know? The more time went on, the more excited I got about being a dad. And when we found out that it was a girl…If I've been that happy before…it's been a really long time.

"I was at work when I got the call. My best friend's mom is a nurse, and she was on-shift when they brought her in. All she told me was that Lydia had been in an accident, and that I needed to get down there right away. So I get there with my dad, and Scott's there – my best friend – and he's hysterical. He had been following her home when it happened."

He felt his chest tighten as tears filled his eyes. Recounting it was just as hard as living it. "There was a lot of blood on his hands. He, uh…he somehow knew before the doctors came out and told us. I guess he knew exactly where all the blood came from…but I knew that he was right. I got really angry at him, because he was with her. He should've been able to protect her. I know that there was nothing he could've done, but I was still mad. I ended up hitting him, and I still feel terrible about that. But when the doctors came out and confirmed it, I just…I kinda shut down for a little bit. Lydia was in surgery for internal bleeding, so I had to wait until they got her out of recovery to see her.

"After they put her in a room, Scott's mom made me wait outside while she told her. She started crying, and I couldn't help it. I climbed into bed with her and I…I just held her. I thought if I held her that it would make everything okay, but it didn't. She wasn't far enough along to have any kind of paperwork, but we…we named her anyway. Lydia wanted to make sure that we didn't forget her."

He took a deep breath, rubbing his thumb at the corner of his eyes. It was easier yet harder than he thought it was going to be. "We, uh, haven't really talked, especially about that, since she got out of the hospital. She doesn't want to talk about it. Wants to pretend like she's okay even though no one's expecting her to be. The most she's told me about how she was feeling was during a fight we had, and she…she told me…that she, uh, couldn't bring herself to care about how I was feeling. We've barely talked since then, because I – I don't know how handle it anymore. As much as she used to act like she didn't have a heart, she has one of the biggest hearts ever. So her actually not caring is…

"I'm just kind of lost on what to do right now. It's not that I don't love her. I love her more than anything. I want to be there for her, and I want to help her, but she's just pushing me away. I don't want to end things. I just want her to be okay."

There was a moment of silence as Stiles collected himself, taking a few silent deep breaths as he continued to look down. "That's it, I guess."

"Thank you," Jason said. "It can be really hard to share for the first time, especially in a group of guys that you don't know, so thank you for sharing."

Stiles nodded, still attempting to get himself in check, but managed to give the group a small smile.

"All right," Jason said, clapping his hands together. "Who wants to go next?"

''''''''''

Lydia didn't even look up at the knock to her door, instead continuing to read over her notes. Well, trying to, at least. She knew that is was probably her mother, but she didn't want to talk to her. They hadn't talked since their argument, and she didn't want to start now. "I'm busy."

The door opened, and Lydia sighed. "I said that I'm –"

"I know that you don't want to talk to me right now," Natalie interrupted, holding up a hand to stop her. "That's fine. But I thought that you should know that your father is on his way."

"What?" she asked, shocked. "Why?"

"I don't know," her mom told her. "He just called and said that he's leaving the airport, and that he'd be here in a few minutes."

Lydia felt the frustration build in her as she slammed her textbook shut and stood up. "Some warning from him would have been nice! What if I wasn't home? What if I had plans?"

"I don't know, Lydia," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "All I know is that he'll be here any minute."

She bit her lip as she stood there, trying to keep tears from leaving her eyes. Why the hell would he show up now? Why hadn't he showed up when she wanted him – when she needed him? Now over a month later, he decides that it's safe enough to come see them? Did he think the coast was clear when it came to the sadness and grief that had overwhelmed her? Did he not want to deal with the emotions that his daughter had been feeling and was still feeling?

The doorbell rang, and both women froze for a moment, making eye contact for the first time in a week. After a moment, Natalie finally turned around and left the room to go downstairs. Lydia remained where she was, trying to decide whether she would actually go downstairs or not. She didn't want to see her father, but she knew that he wouldn't leave until she did.

Slowly, she made her way downstairs, the strained civility in her parent's tones making its way to her ears.

"Hi, sweetheart!" he said cheerfully when she entered the foyer. Why the fuck was he cheerful? He walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. She barely returned it, the anger she had been holding towards him the past few weeks bubbling to the surface.

He pulled back, resting his hands on her shoulders as his face sobered. "How are you?"

She didn't stop the scoff that came out of her mouth, pushing his hands off of her and turning towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink as her parents followed her.

"Lydia," Natalie warned. Lydia raised a challenging eyebrow at her before turning to her father.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked, confusion clear on his face.

"Not at all," Lydia said, cutting her mother off before she could begin. The longer she stared at her father, the angrier she got. "Just living my life, trying to get through school, despite the fact that my daughter is dead and my relationship is probably down the drain because I'm a fuck up. Aren't you glad that we didn't get married?"

"Lydia!" Natalie chastised, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence. "He asked and I answered. We're communicating."

"This isn't communicating, Lydia," her mom said.

"Why do you even care?" Lydia asked. "Either of you. You hate each other. Why should you care how I address the other?"

"Because we raised you better than that!" Natalie exclaimed.

"No you didn't!" she argued. "You may have told me to be respectful, but you showed me something completely different! Both of you were spiteful, and bitter, and resentful towards each other for years! If Dad wasn't there for something that you thought he should have, you let him know it through sarcasm and bitterness, just like I'm doing. So I'm doing _exactly_ what you taught me."

She knew that she should feel bad for the hurt on her mother's face, but the anger she was feeling towards her dad was stronger than anything else. She turned her attention to him, taking in the shocked look on his face.

"That is no way to talk to your mother," he said, his voice stern. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her.

"How cute that you think that you can try to discipline me when you're never here," she snapped. "I don't know why you would even think of showing your face to me when you couldn't even bother to call when I needed you the most."

Guilt crossed over his face, but all it did was anger her more. The fact that he knew what he did and still showed up was even worse than if he had been completely ignorant.

"It's not that I didn't want to be there," he admitted, not looking her in the eye. "I was nearby when I got the call, so I went to the hospital. But when I saw everyone through the door, when I saw Stiles…I couldn't go in. I couldn't handle it."

"You…you couldn't handle it?" she asked in disbelief. " _You_ couldn't handle it? How about me? How about Mom, and Stiles, and the Sheriff? Do you think that we could handle it? God, you're fucking unbelievable!"

"Lydia, that's enough!" Natalie said, her voice ringing through the room.

Lydia looked at her, the rage inside of her only increasing at her mother's tone. "How are you defending him? You were there for me, but he wasn't! He couldn't even step into the hospital! He didn't even call! He left us to deal with this without any support from him, and you're defending him? You should be just as pissed as I am!"

"I'm _not_ defending him!" her mom argued, glancing at Nathan quickly. "Believe me, I'm not. But I don't want you to say anything that you're going to regret!"

Lydia scoffed again, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms.

"I think that you have hurt enough relationships lately," Natalie snapped. "Don't ruin this one, too."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Lydia asked, narrowing her eyes at her mom.

"You know what I mean," she said, raising an eyebrow. "I know you're angry, and I know that you're hurting, but it doesn't mean that you can take it out on everyone else!"

"I am not taking this out on him!" Lydia exclaimed.

"Are you sure?"

Lydia looked at her mother, hesitating. Was she sure? Of course she was mad at her father. The fact that he had been there and decided to leave was a whole new low. She needed him. She had needed all the support that she could get. But the people that were there had been doing nothing but support her, even through their own grief, and how did she repay them?

Her mother was right. She had been doing nothing but damage relationships, including the one she had with her mom.

But it didn't mean that she was going to let her dad off the hook.

"I don't know," she admitted, uncrossing her arms and smoothing out her skirt. She closed some of the distance between her and her father, staring him down. "But I do know that I needed you, and you didn't even try. But at this point, I don't know why I expected anything different."

She stalked out of the kitchen, throwing on her jacket and shoes and walking out the front door.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Here's this week's chapter, guys! I want to thank you again for all the love, it means so much!**

* * *

"She's angry," Nathan said as they heard the door slam shut.

"Do you blame her?" Natalie asked, an edge to her voice. She hadn't been getting onto her daughter for being mad, she had every right to be. She just didn't want Lydia to do something that she'd regret. He daughter had sadly been good at that lately. "She's been through hell these past few weeks – again – and you weren't there for her – again."

"I didn't know how to handle it, okay?" he snapped. "You know that I've never been able to handle things like this, and time hasn't made it any easier."

"Yeah, I know" she said wryly, making her way to the fridge. "That's why I was left to deal with putting Lorraine in Eichen even though she was _your_ mother."

"Are you still upset about that?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"No," she said immediately, her exasperation showing. "I loved Lorraine, you know that. She was as good as my own mother. And I was more upset that you couldn't be there for her than anything else. But I thought that maybe you had learned from that. Apparently I was wrong."

She opened the fridge, pulling out the bottle of wine that she had placed in there earlier. God knew she needed it.

"Drinking?" Nathan asked as she pulled out a wine glass. "Really, Natalie?"

"You're welcome to join," she told him simply.

"No thank you," he said, the judgement clear in his voice.

She glared at him, leaning over the island. "I really don't think you're in a place to judge me right now. At least I've been there for our daughter. At least I've cared about the fact that I lost my granddaughter."

"I do care!" he told her, taking a step towards her. "You don't think that I've been grieving? That I've been hurting over this?"

"Well, I wouldn't know that because you haven't _been here_ ," she snapped, pulling the drawer open with more force than necessary and grabbing the wine opener. "You haven't stopped by, you haven't called or texted. You haven't even sent an e-mail! But you wanted her to live with you?"

"I didn't know what to do!" he argued. "I was already hurting, and I just…I couldn't bring myself to go in there."

"You think it was easy for me?" she asked, popping the cork off the wine and pouring it into the glass. "It was easy for me to be there for her, because she's my daughter and she needed me, and I needed to make sure that she was okay. But it wasn't easy to watch her hurt. She had already been told when I got there, and both her and Stiles were wrecks. Do you think it was easy for me to see her lying injured in a hospital bed? Do you think it was easy for me to walk in there and see that Stiles had climbed into the bed with her and was trying to be strong for her even though he was just as broken as she was? Do you think that it was easy to watch my daughter's entire world shatter and not being able to do anything about it?"

Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath before continuing. "It wasn't easy. But I did it. I've been there for her as much as I know how."

"Well," he said, a bitterness creeping into his tone. "You've always been the stronger one out of the two of us."

"In more ways than one," she quipped. She didn't forget about the woman that Nathan had ruined their marriage for. It wasn't the only problem that they had, but when Natalie had found out about the other woman, she knew that it was over. She could try to work through tension and bitterness and arguing, but she refused to be betrayed in that way. "And you've always resented me for it, as much as you try to hide it. But don't you dare try to use that as an excuse to not be there for Lydia."

"I don't have an excuse," he insisted. "But I'm here now. How…how can I make this up to her?"

"That's something you're going to have to ask her," Natalie told him, lifting up the glass to take a drink. "But honestly? I don't know if you can."

''''''''''

Lydia opened the door to the clinic, grateful that they were still open. She had been putting off talking to Deaton about what happened that night with Kate, but she didn't have anything better to do at the moment. It was either talk to Deaton, or go home and deal with her father.

"Lydia," Deaton said, surprise in his tone as he made his way to the front. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you, too," she said, giving him a small smile.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I assume that you're not here to simply catch up?"

"Right," she nodded. "Something happened the other night, and I was hoping that maybe you would know what was going on?"

"All right," he said, opening the gate. "I'm not too well-versed in Banshees, but I'll see what I can do."

''''''''''

"Cora, what are you doing here?"

"Wow, did you not want me here?"

"You know that's not what I meant."

They were sitting on the couch, Derek watching his sister carefully. She was sulking slightly considering that he had taken the beer from her, but he wasn't about to let his little sister drink underage.

"I missed you, okay?" she admitted, picking at her jacket. She was just as bad with emotions as he was. "It wasn't the same being there without my old pack, but I stayed because it was more familiar than Beacon Hills. But the longer I stayed, the lonelier I got, and…I missed you. So I came back."

"Why didn't you tell me that you were coming back?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell me that you even wanted to?"

"I wanted to surprise you," she shrugged, looking at him with a smirk. "And I thought since everything had died down for the moment, that it was okay. Besides, I brought back something."

She reached down to her bag and zipped it open. "Well, I didn't bring back something for everybody. But I saw this blanket, and I just had to get it. I may not be Lydia's best friend, but I thought it would be nice to get something for the baby."

She pulled out a large blanket, weaved with bright colors, pink being the most dominant. The distinctive pattern made its way across the fabric, and Derek couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful it was. He also couldn't help how his chest tightened. It had been a few weeks since he had talked to her, and it was obviously before the accident.

"She's gotta be what, five months? Six months?" she asked, unfolding the blanket. "I don't follow her on Instagram or anything, so I'm not sure. Is she one of those girls that got huge fast? Or is she barely showing? As tiny as she is, it could really go either way, depending on how she's carrying…"

She caught sight of his expression, her voice trailing off as confusion crossed her face. "What's wrong? Does it not go with the nursery or something?"

"Cora," he said, his voice strained as he looked at Braeden, who looked torn. He turned back to his sister, seeing the excitement that she had shown talking about the baby turn to confusion and wariness. "That's…that's an amazing gift, and Lydia would have loved it in the nursery, but…"

He couldn't do it. He couldn't ruin the excitement that his sister had. He looked to Braeden, silently pleading for her to take over. She nodded slightly, turning to Cora.

"But what?" Cora asked, her eyes narrowing. "What the hell is going on, Derek?"

"Cora," Braeden said gently, looking the younger girl in the eye. "There was an accident a few weeks ago, and Lydia was involved. She's okay, but…but the baby didn't make it."

Surprise flickered on her face, and she looked down at the blanket. "Oh."

Her voice was emotionless, and Derek wasn't sure how to handle that.

"I guess she won't be needing this, then," Cora muttered, folding the blanket back up.

"Cora –"

"What?" she asked with a shrug. "Why are you worrying about me?"

"You just…you seemed excited," Derek said. "I didn't want –"

"Of course I was excited," she told him. "I mean, Stiles having a kid with Lydia? That's a progeny I'd like to see. Can you imagine how much that kid could get away with simply because it would be so smart? But I guess that I'm not going to see that. At least, not for a while."

"I'm sorry that I didn't call," he apologized. "I should have called to tell you."

"Yeah, you should have," she nodded. "But I know how crazy things get around here, so I understand why you haven't. I'm guessing that she wouldn't want the blanket?"

"Probably not," Braeden said.

"Then we won't tell her that I have it," Cora told them. "If it ever comes up, than I have a newfound appreciation for pink."

"Thank you," Derek said. "I know you and Lydia aren't exactly friends."

"We're not," she shrugged. "But Stiles and I are cool. How's he doing with it?"

"Not well," Derek sighed. "None of us really are. Kate's only been taken care of for about a week, so we're just now really dealing with it, you know?"

Cora nodded. "I'm sorry. No one should have to go through that."

"They shouldn't," he agreed. "But they don't have a choice. All we can do is be there for them and help them get better – if they let us."

"Yeah," she said. Sighing, she stuffed the blanket back into her bag. "Now, is my bed still available?"

''''''''''

Lydia leaned her hands against the metal table, looking between Deaton and Scott. The alpha was apparently working late, but she wasn't too worried about talking to Deaton in front of him, since he had been when it happened and already knew. She hadn't told anyone else.

She watched as Deaton thought, but she couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking.

"Well?" she asked. "Do you have any idea?"

"I don't think that the timing is a coincidence," he mused, walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a small book.

She looked at Scott, and he seemed just as confused as she felt.

"Timing?" Scott asked. "What timing?"

"When her new abilities became known," Deaton explained, flipping through the book as he made his way back over to them. "Like I mentioned before, I am not well-versed in Banshee-lore. But from what little I do know, there are different ways to become a Banshee. The most common folklore that I've been able to find is a woman becoming a Banshee – or more likely, the abilities are triggered – either by losing the love of their life –"

"Like my grandmother," Lydia muttered.

"Correct," Deaton nodded. "Or, they are women who die in childbirth."

Her chest tightened, and she licked her lips as she tried to keep her composure. "That's not exactly something I got a chance to do."

Scott took her hand and squeezed it gently, but she didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on Deaton.

"That's true," he said. "But considering how a werewolf bite is never mentioned in any of the mythologies, there are obviously things that are not recorded."

"What does this have to do with Lydia's powers?" Scott asked, keeping his hand on hers.

"My best guess – and I don't know how accurate it is, considering my lack of knowledge in this subject – is that if dying in childbirth can cause a woman to become a Banshee, then maybe…losing a child can have the same effect."

"I was already a Banshee," Lydia snapped, her composure breaking. She wanted to be okay, she really did. But it was so fucking hard to even act like she was okay when every time her daughter was mentioned, she felt like she was drowning. She took a deep breath, squeezing Scott's hand to ground herself as she looked back to Deaton. "So what you're saying is, that I lost her, and because I was already a Banshee that it just heightened my abilities?"

The compassion in Deaton's eyes did nothing to quell the anger boiling inside of her. Anger was apparently something that was always under the surface for her these days.

"I'm afraid so," he said.

Lydia didn't even feel like laughing until she was. Both of the men in the room looked at her worriedly as she brought a hand to her mouth to try and stifle it. She knew she sounded crazy.

"This is great," she said, between laughs. "This is awesome! It's like the universe is telling me 'we're sorry you lost your daughter, but here's a new ability that you have to figure out!' It's like some shitty consolation prize!"

"Lydia," Scott said hesitantly, making his way around the corner of the table and resting a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be oka-"

"No, Scott, it's not okay!" she snapped, her laughter stopping as suddenly as it started. The anger filled her veins, and she had no one to direct it to. "I lost my daughter! The one good thing that has happened to me since all of this bullshit started was ripped away from me before I even got to –" her voice broke, and she took a deep breath as tears filled her eyes, her voice softer as she continued. "And now all I have is some new ability that I have to figure out when I haven't even finished figuring out what I already had? What about this is okay, Scott? I didn't want this! I want my daughter! Not…not…"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as Scott rested his hands on her shoulders. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that we will figure this out, like we do everything else. And this new ability…it kind of saved my life. It probably saved all of our lives."

Slowly, she nodded. "I know. I'm just...frustrated."

He pulled her into a hug, rubbing circles onto her back. "You know you can come to me, right? For anything."

"Yeah," she said, hugging him back tightly. "I know. But right now, I should probably go."

She pulled out of the hug, but he kept a hand on her arm. "I forgot my phone at the house, and I've been trying to get a hold of Stiles. I need to know if he's answered or not. Do you happen to know where he is?"

Scott's brow furrowed as he thought. "No, he didn't say that he was going anywhere tonight. As far as I know he's at home."

"Oh," she said, biting her lip. "So then he's just ignoring me."

She didn't blame him. Not at all.

"That's not it," he assured her. "I'm sure that's not it. He's missed you, Lydia. A lot. Yes, he's hurting, but he kind of thinks that you don't want to talk to him. I can call him, see where he's at."

"Don't worry about it," she told him. "I'll drive by his house, see if he's home. If not, I'll go get my phone."

She really didn't want to do that, considering that she might have to deal with her father again, but she had to do what she had to do.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't mind."

"I'm sure," she nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded.

She turned to Deaton, forcing a small smile on her mouth. "Thanks for the help."

"Always happy to help," he nodded. "I wish that I could have given you a different answer."

Scott squeezed her shoulder, and she shot him another small smile before heading out of the clinic to look for Stiles.

'''''''''

"Thanks for coming, Stiles," Evan told him, shaking his hand. "That was really brave being so open on your first visit."

"Thanks," Stiles nodded. "I just did what you told me to do. Start from the beginning."

"See you next week?" the older man asked.

"I think so," Stiles said. "This was…It was nice to talk about it with people who get it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Evan said, giving him a small smile. "See ya, man."

"See ya."

Stiles made his way to the front door, his chest feeling a little lighter than it had in weeks. Yes, he had been able to talk about it with his dad, and even a little with Scott. But he hadn't been able to get everything off of his chest, not like he had tonight. It really was different talking to people who understood what he was feeling. Not that Scott and his dad weren't grieving and hurting, but it was different.

If only he could talk to Lydia, everything would be better. Just a conversation about anything would've been nice. But they hadn't been able to talk without it turning into a fight lately, and it was really starting to weigh on him.

He loved her so much, and it hadn't diminished at all. He still loved her with everything he had, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. But if they couldn't get past everything, what would happen to their relationship? He wanted to stay and work it out, but the more time went on, the more it looked like she wasn't willing to do that. What was he supposed to do if that was the case?

He knew that he wanted her to be happy, that's all he had wanted for a long time. It didn't care if she was with him or not, as long as she was happy. Except that she wasn't happy, and he didn't think ending things were going to make her any happier. But if it was, that was going to have to be up to her.

He didn't notice the figure leaning up against his Jeep until he was only a few feet away, causing him to jump in surprise. "Whoa!"

"I didn't mean to scare you," Lydia said, her voice soft. "Honestly, I wasn't even hiding."

He relaxed when he realized it was her, but annoyance flared up in him. "What the hell, Lydia? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"No," she said, her eyes narrowing at him. "I just told you that I wasn't even hiding. It's not my fault you're not aware of your surroundings."

"I was…thinking," he said lamely. "I have a lot to think about."

"Yeah, well that can be dangerous to do in Beacon hills," she told him. "Especially with the lives we lead."

She shivered in her jacket, and Stiles felt his annoyance fade away. "How long have you been standing here? It's freezing out tonight, Lyds."

She tried to hide a smile, but Stiles caught the slight upturn of her lips. "I've missed that."

"Missed what?" he asked, confused.

"You calling me Lyds," she admitted, picking at her jacket sleeve. "And I haven't been standing here long. I've only been here a few minutes. I, uh, I was on my way to your house to talk to you when I saw the Jeep parked here. I got out of my car while people were leaving. I knew you wouldn't be too long."

"You could've come in," he suggested. "No one would have stopped you."

"I thought about it," she admitted. "But I figured if you wanted to get mad, it would be easier to do it in the parking lot."

"Why would I get mad?" he asked, his confusion growing.

"Because I've hurt you," she said, her voice suddenly thick. "Because I have said some awful things to you. Because I miss you so much, but I have no right to miss you because it's my fault we're not close anymore. Because even though I know all of this, and even though I don't deserve it, I'm still standing here and I'm going to ask – not beg, because Lydia Martin does _not_ beg – but ask for your forgiveness."

"Lydia –"

"Let me finish," she said, a single tear making its way down her cheek. "Let me finish, because I actually feel like talking and I don't know when this is going to happen again."

He nodded, letting her continue.

She took a deep breath before continuing. "I'm asking for your forgiveness, because I have tried to act like everything is okay, that I'm okay, and I'm not. I feel like I'm drowning, Stiles. And just when I think I broke the surface and can swim back to shore, I see a little girl, or someone says her name, or mentions the accident, and I'm dragged back under the water. And I want…I want to care how everyone else is feeling – I swear to God I do – but I physically can't bring myself to do it. And I hate it! I hate it so much. I know there's something wrong with me, and I know what it is, but I keep denying it.

"I just…" she took another deep breath, looking up as she was obviously trying not to cry. Stiles' chest tightened watching her, but he stayed quiet, knowing that she wasn't finished. "I don't feel like I deserve to feel like this and have this issue, because I couldn't protect her. Because I couldn't be there for her. Because I never got to feel her…"

A sob made its way out of her throat, her hand flying up to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I-I wasn't going to c-cry."

He closed the distance between them quickly, pulling her into a tight hug as tears made their way down his face. He kissed her temple, rubbing circles on her back. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't even realize – I should've known."

"No," she said, shaking her head fiercely as tears poured down her cheeks. "Don't put this on yourself. This – this was me. I didn't tell you. I tried to hide it. It's not y-your fault."

"I should've known," he insisted.

"It's not like I gave much of a chance to notice," She muttered against his chest, another shiver running through her.

Sighing, he pulled back just enough to look at her. "Why don't we go someplace warmer? Either my house, or your house –"

"Your house," she said quickly, a small laugh escaping her throat. "Definitely your house."

"O…kay," he said. "Let's go in my car. We'll come back for yours later, okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, calming down slightly. She made her way to the passenger side of the Jeep, and he followed her and opened the door for her.

"My house?" he asked, making sure before he shut the door.

"Your house," she confirmed, wiping at her eyes.

He shut the door, making his way to the driver's side.

This was good. Talking was good.

* * *

 **I always love to know what you think!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Here's this week's chapter! This time we have more Stydia, as well as some other cute moments, so I hope you like it!**

 **Again, I wanna thank you guys for all the support. I love you all so much!**

* * *

Melissa heard the front door close, and the light clink of Scott's keys hitting the dish that he kept them in.

"Hey, Honey," she called out from the couch. She patted the cushion beside her as he came into the living room. He flopped down onto the couch next to her, looking exhausted. Not that it was new these days. "Rough day, honey?"

He nodded, leaning his head against the back of the couch and looking at her. "Yeah. We were really busy at the clinic. Where's Isaac?"

"He went to a movie with Malia," she told him, raising an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked, sitting up as he grinned. "Like…a date?"

"According to him, it's just as friends," she shrugged. "But who knows?"

"Is it wrong that I'm hoping it's a date?" he asked. "I mean, she is my best friend's ex."

"Well," she said, turning down the volume on the TV. "They've obviously both moved on, and if Isaac and Malia make each other happy, I don't see why that's a bad thing."

"So I can be excited for them?" he asked.

She nodded, patting his shoulder. "Yes, honey, you can."

He leaned back against the couch, his eyes closing momentarily. "I just want them to have something nice, you know? We don't get enough of that."

"No, you don't," she agreed, her chest tightening as her son's words. "Speaking of, why don't you go do something with Kira?"

"No," he said. "She was doing something with her mom tonight. Helping develop her abilities and what not. Besides, I'm exhausted."

"Okay," she said. "Get some rest then, okay?"

"Can I just sit here for a little bit?" he asked, shifting to get more comfortable.

She smiled at him, rubbing his arm affectionately. "Of course, honey. Come here."

She pulled him towards her, putting an arm around him as he laid on her. It had been a while since she had been able to hold her son, and even longer since he thought it cool to do it for no reason. The last time she had held him was right after Allison had passed, and she wanted more memories like the one they were creating now.

"You don't have to hold me, Mom," he said with a laugh, but he didn't move away from her. "I'm almost an adult."

"I know," she said, leaning her cheek on the top of his head and rubbing his arm. "But you're never too old to let your mom hold you. You know that, right?"

"Well, yeah," he said. "But you don't have to."

"I want to," she assured him. "I always want to."

She kissed his head, and he relaxed into her as she turned to TV back up. She had been flipping channels, and it had landed on some television movie. They watched as the couple fought because of a misunderstanding – which happened in every movie she had seen on that channel – but for some reason it reminded her of Stiles and Lydia.

"Did you talk to Stiles today?" she asked him nonchalantly.

"Yeah," he said. "I always do."

"Did he happen to say anything about Lydia?" she inquired.

"No," he said. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I just know that things haven't been easy for them, and I was wondering how they were."

"I'm worried about them," he admitted, sitting up to look at her. "Things have been awful between them for weeks. I know that they love each other, but…I don't know. I don't know if they're gonna make it through this. She came by the clinic tonight, and she said that she wanted to talk to him, but what if it's too late?"

"Why would it be too late?" she asked, confused. She knew that Stiles was upset with her – Lydia had told her as much – but how bad could it be if Scott didn't think that Stiles would forgive her?

She could see the hesitation in his eyes, but before she could tell him anything, he started talking. "Stiles and Lydia kind of got into a fight, and she said some…pretty bad things. This was almost two weeks ago, and they've been all but ignoring each other ever since. Stiles was really upset, and I don't know if he's going to want to talk to her."

"I think he will," she told him. "How much do you remember about Claudia?"

His brow furrowed in concentration. "She was really fun and nice. I always loved going over because she would always have cookies or something made."

"Yeah," Melissa nodded. "How much do you remember about her after she got sick?

"Not a lot," he admitted. "We didn't really visit."

"I didn't let you," she told him. "I didn't want you to remember her that way, especially when she started getting worse. Unfortunately, Stiles and John didn't really get that option.

"When she started getting bad, she would berate John and tell him such horrible things, and even though he knew she didn't mean them, some of them still cut really deep. God, I remember how he would just take it. When she was done with whatever she was yelling at him, he would leave the room and go off someplace. If Stiles was there, he would send him down to me if I wasn't already in the hospital room. Stiles would always tell me that he thought his dad was angry and needed to cool off, but I know that wasn't why. I would always go and find him after getting Stiles settled, and he…he would be so hurt. But he didn't dare break down in front of Stiles because he thought that he had to be strong for everybody. It only got worse, and she started doing the same thing to Stiles, but both of them always forgave her when she was herself again."

"But that's different," Scott said. "She was sick. She wasn't herself."

"Honey, I don't think Lydia's herself right now, either," she admitted. "I've seen it. Losing a child like that, it changes people, and it can get a lot worse before it gets better."

"What do I do?" he asked. "I want to help them, but I don't know how."

"Sometimes you just have to step back," she said. "You're hurting, too, Scott. Everyone's still grieving, and I think we're all a little lost. A loss like this is…it's difficult to wrap your head around. When it's family or a friend –" he looked down at his hands, and her heart clenched. "– it's easier to…understand your grief, because you knew them, you spent time with them. But when it's like this…rationally you understand, but there can a part of you that has trouble with it. It's a lot to deal with, and it takes a toll."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I just want everyone to be okay."

She looked at him for a moment, hating the pain she saw there. "What about you?"

"What about me?" he asked, looking back up at her with a furrowed brow.

"What about you being okay?" she asked. "That's just as important. You're their leader. You need to be okay, too."

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I'll be okay when they're okay."

"Okay, she said, nodding slowly. "Well, how about until then, we finish watching this cheesy movie and call it a night."

"That sounds good," he told her. She pulled him back over to her, resting her head on his as he got comfortable.

"What's this movie about?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "But, I can tell you that they get together in the end."

"Spoilers!"

''''''''''

"Here you go," Stiles said, handing Lydia a cup of tea. "Just how you like it."

"Thanks," she said, taking the cup from him with a small smile. He sat across from her at the kitchen table, silent as he watched her. She knew that he didn't want to push her, so he was letting her start the conversation. But she didn't know where to start. She had already told him how she felt, she didn't know what else to say.

"I feel guilty, too," he finally said, his voice soft as he looked down at the table. "I know it's ridiculous, it's nobody's fault. But I feel like I should have been there. I've been doing all of this stuff to protect her, but I never thought that I would have to protect her from that, you know?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

"But you have to know that it's not your fault, or my fault, or Scott's fault –"

"I never blamed Scott," she said, shaking her head. "I never blamed you. I blamed Kate and myself because I was there. I should have protected her, and I couldn't."

"I blamed Scott," he admitted. "Not anymore, but I did for a minute there."

"Why?" she asked, confused. "Why would you blame him?"

"I wasn't thinking straight," he shrugged. "I…I had gotten there right after you got into surgery, and Melissa was explaining what happened. When she told me that you were going to be okay, I asked about her, and Scott…Scott said that he couldn't hear her heartbeat."

Lydia closed her eyes, trying to keep the tears back and failing. She hadn't even thought to ask about what they had gone through while she was in surgery. Of course he would've known before her. Of course Scott would've known immediately.

"He was apologizing over and over," Stiles continued, his voice thick. "And he was crying…he was a mess. But I just…there was that brief moment where I just lost it and blamed him for everything. I screamed at him. I punched him, and he just took it because he blamed himself as much as I did in that moment."

"You punched him?" she asked, her eyes flying open in shock.

He bit his lip, leaning his elbows on the table. "I'm not…I'm not proud of it. I felt awful about it, and I apologized, and we're good now, but…yeah."

She should have known about that. She should have known what happened when she was in surgery, because if it were anything else, she would have asked. She would have wanted to know. But she hadn't even cared.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "I'm sorry that I made you feel like you couldn't tell me any of this, or how you were feeling. I've been absolutely awful to you. You've wanted to talk for weeks, and I just shut you down every time."

"Lydia, no," he said, shaking his head. "Don't do that. That's not what this is about –"

"But it is!" she exclaimed. "I have hurt you so much, especially these past few weeks. I'm the reason we haven't been talking. I'm the reason that our relationship is where we're at right now."

"It's not just you, Lyds," he insisted. "I know that something has been wrong, and all I've been doing is getting mad."

"You have every reason to be mad," she said. "What I said to you…I don't even know why you're still talking to me."

He shook his head as he leaned forward and grabbed her hand across the table. "Lydia, I know that what's going on…it's not really you. It'd be easy to just walk away when things get tough, but I don't want to do that. I love you, Lydia. So much. I'm going to fight for that as long as you're willing to fight for it, too. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She couldn't help but smile at his words. She squeezed his hand as she looked at him, nodding slowly. "Okay. How do you wanna do this?"

"I don't know," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe talk more? Like we did before."

"We can do that," she said, wrapping her free hand around the cooling mug. "I guess I should start by telling you what I think is going on with me."

"Please do," he told her, rubbing his thumb against her hand.

She took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to say it. "This past week, I've had a lot more time to focus on myself, and I didn't like what I saw. So, despite the fact that all of the signs were familiar, I did some more research to double-check.

"Do you remember when I told you about Post-Partum depression?" she asked. He nodded slowly, but didn't say anything so she continued, speaking as clinically as possible to distance herself. "They think it's triggered by the drop in hormones in a woman's body after you have a baby. When you miscarry, that same drop happens. So when the hormones drop, then a woman who has miscarried can develop Post-Partum just like a woman who carried to term."

She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the tears filling her eyes yet again. She was tired of crying, but it was hard to admit everything out loud.

"And that's what you think is wrong." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I have all the symptoms, but I didn't want to admit it. I thought…I thought that because I didn't give birth to her, that I couldn't have it. That I didn't deserve to have it because I didn't protect her. I just wanted to pretend that everything was okay, but it wasn't. It's not. All I've done is push everybody away.

"My dad stopped by tonight," she told him, and he squeezed her hand in comfort. "I didn't realize how mad I was at him for not being there until I saw him. All I could think was that I needed him there, but then I realized that I had so many people there for me that I've just pushed away these past few weeks. I would've just done the same thing to him. I left pissed off, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt awful about it, and I knew that I couldn't just pretend anymore."

"Hey, hey, hey," Stiles said, coming around the table and crouching in front of her. "You have pushed people away these past few weeks, but that doesn't mean you can't be upset with your dad. He didn't even try to be there for you. It's okay to be mad at that."

"He said that he went to the hospital that night," she said, her voice thick as she tried to control the tears. "But he looked in the door and saw you guys, and he couldn't handle it."

"He couldn't handle it?" Stiles asked in disbelief. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "That's just what he told me before I got pissed off and left. And then I went to Deaton's to try to get my mind off of it and figure out my new abilities –"

"Wait, what new abilities?" he asked, confused. That was right, she hadn't told him.

"The blasts of energy that came out with my scream when we fought Kate," she explained.

"What?" he said, shock clear on his face. "Why haven't you told me?"

"We haven't exactly been on speaking terms lately," she reminded him.

"True," he said, nodding as he stood up and sat in the chair next to her. "What did Deaton have to say about it?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment before speaking. "You're not gonna like it. I hated it."

"He's said a lot of things that I didn't like," he told her with a shrug. "What is it now?"

"He thinks that is something to do with losing Addyson." She said it quickly, just wanting the words out. "That it strengthened my powers somehow."

He looked at her for a moment, a flurry of emotions playing on his face. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. "Of course. Because the universe can't possibly give us any kind of break, right?"

"Right," she nodded.

He reached out to grab her hand again, pulling her up from the chair as he stood. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? Just like we always do."

"I know," she told him. "I just…I don't know where to go from here."

"One day at a time?" he suggested, pulling her closer to him.

She gave him a small smile, resting her hands on his chest as she looked up at him. "I think I can do that."

''''''''''

"Oh my God, why did you convince me to watch that?"

"Me? You were the one who wanted to watch it!"

"No, I suggested it."

"Why would you suggest it if you didn't want to see it?"

Isaac looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow at him as she waited for an answer.

"Well?" she asked as they walked towards the car.

He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I thought that you would like it?"

She looked at him in disbelief. "Why would you think I'd like a Nicholas Sparks movie? I mean, I'm all for romance, but that shit was too much."

He shrugged again, pulling open the passenger door and getting in as she got in herself. "I don't know."

"It's because I'm a girl, wasn't it?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

"No!" he denied. "It's not because you're a girl! I just figured we had enough violence in our lives, so an action movie wasn't our best bet, and our movie theatre sucks so we didn't get any of the comedies."

"Oh," she said, starting the car and pulling out of their parking spot. "Well…I wouldn't have minded that one with the whale."

"We can see that one next weekend, then," he said. "I'm sorry for not knowing your movie tastes."

"I'm not mad, if that's what you're thinking," she said. "I just hate that we sat through a movie that neither of us really enjoyed. I mean, if you had wanted to see it and enjoyed it, then it's be okay."

"Well, I didn't _not_ enjoy it," he admitted.

She stole a glance at him, her eybrow raising in amusement. "Are you saying that you liked the sappy romance movie?"

"There were certain parts I liked," he said, a smirk growing on his face. "The sex scenes are always nice."

Malia rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder as she stopped at a red light. "You're impossible. Why do I hang out with you again?"

"Because I'm irresistible," he teased.

"Irresistible isn't the word I would use," she told him, pressing the gas when the light turned green.

"What would you use, then?" he asked, his eyes twinkling despite the low light.

She pretended to think for a moment, glancing at him with a smirk of her own. "Insufferable."

He gasped, his hand going to his chest as he mocked offense. "You wound me, Malia, you wound me."

She laughed, ignoring how her name rolling off her tongue that way gave her chills. "I think you'll survive."

"And if I didn't?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

"Then I promise to cry at your funeral."

"You're a cruel women, Malia Tate," he teased, shaking his head.

"Being a coyote for half of your life tends to do that to you," she shrugged, shooting him a smile. "But I do admit that I've gotten better."

She pulled into the McCalls' driveway, placing the gear in park.

"Well, why don't you come in and tell me about it?" he asked. "We can work on that History paper."

"I don't know," she said. "Are you sure that you want to spend more time with the girl who 'wounds' you?"

His gaze softened slightly, and his smirk turned into more of a smile. "Every second I can."

She cursed internally as her heart picked up speed, and she had to look away as she pressed her lips together to hide a smile. "Fine. But only because I need help on that paper."

She knew that he heard her heart skip at the lie, but she didn't really care.

''''''''''

Derek listened as Cora's heartrate and breathing evened out, smirking as he heard her soft snores from upstairs. That hadn't taken nearly as long as he had thought.

"Is she asleep?" Braeden asked softly, squeezing his knee as she cuddled into him on the couch.

"Yeah," he nodded, just as softly. He didn't want to wake her up. "You know, I really missed her being here."

"She is your sister," Braeden said, shifting so she could look at him. "She seemed to take the news about the baby pretty well."

"Yeah," he said. "Seemed to."

"You don't think that she did?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Derek shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, she's not exactly close with people in the Pack, but she still is part of the Pack as far as Scott and I are concerned. And she did become friends with Stiles before she left, so I'm sure she was excited for him. I mean, Cora's never been a person that would buy something for a baby she _wasn't_ looking forward to."

"So I guess it's a Hale thing, then," she said.

"What's a Hale thing?" he asked.

"Hiding your emotions like that," she told him. "Insisting on impersonating a stone."

"You're saying that you've never hidden your emotions?" he asked, his eyebrows rising in amusement.

"Oh, I have," she nodded. "But it's not really a family thing for me."

"Yeah," he said.

"I'm not saying it to make you feel bad," she assured. "I know that both of you have been through a lot, so I don't blame you. I just wish sometimes that I knew how you were feeling."

"I know," he nodded. "I'm sorry. It's just second nature by now to keep it all in. I haven't always had an amazing girlfriend to talk to."

She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm. "It's not like you have a lot of amazing women to compare me to, if we're being honest."

"I don't compare you," he told her, pulling him into his side. "You are your own person, and so is anyone else I could compare you to. Why would I need to compare you to them?"

"I guess I should be glad about that," she sighed. "I mean, there's no way I could beat Kate."

"Oh, no," he teased. "Not at all."

She smacked him again as he laughed, and as he looked into her eyes he couldn't help the feeling that overwhelmed him. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, the desire to hold her in his arms for the rest of his life. But it grew stronger every time he held her close.

Which is why he didn't even think before the words flew out of his mouth.

"Marry me."

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	30. Chapter 30

**Here you go, lovelies! I forgot to say it before, but I hope you all had a good holiday season.**

 **I also thought that I should let you guys know that I'm almost done with this story. After this chapter, it's one more and then an epilogue. I'll get all mushy when I post the epilogue, but I wanted to let you know how much I've appreciated you guys these past few months. This is the longest, most involved story that I have ever written, and your support has meant so much to me. xoxo**

* * *

"What?"

Derek felt his eyes widen as he looked at Braeden's shocked face. "I-I didn't –"

"Did you just ask me to marry you?" she asked, pulling back from him to look at his face.

"It just sort of came out," he told her, letting her go in case she needed space. "I'm sorry."

"I can tell," she said, standing up from the couch. "What even brought this on? I mean, it's not like we've talked about it."

"I know," he said, standing up as well. "I'm sorry –"

"Was this Mrs. Johnson?" she asked, beginning to pace. "Did she say something?"

"No, I –" he paused, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, what would she say?"

"I don't know!" she said. "But I know she's been hinting every time I go over there."

"She may have said something," he said. "But that's not why I asked."

"Then why did you?" she asked, stopping and looking at him.

"I don't know!" he said. "It just came out! If you don't want to marry me, you don't have to –"

"I never said that," she told him.

"So you do want to marry me?" he asked, confusion filling him. If she wanted to marry him, why was she freaking out so much?

"I never said that, either," she said.

"Than what do you want?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said as she shook her head. "We've never even talked about it."

"Do you want to talk about it now?" he asked.

She thought for a moment, biting her lip in hesitation. "Okay."

He made his way over to her, taking her hands in own. "All I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you don't want that to include marriage, I'm okay with that."

"It's not that I'm completely ruling out marriage," she said. "I just…that's a whole step that I never actually thought that I would do. That I would find somebody that I would _want_ to take that step with."

"Okay," he said. "And now?"

"Now," she told him, taking a deep breath. "I think I have."

He couldn't help the smile that graced his lips. "Okay."

"But," she said, giving him a smirk. "If we're gonna do the whole marriage thing, I kind of want to do it right. Which means I want a nice old-fashioned proposal."

"Old-fashioned proposal?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know," she said. "The speech, the ring, so on and so forth."

"Are you saying that there's actually a little bit of a romantic in you?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at her in mock surprise.

"Maybe just a little bit," she teased.

"Just a minute," he said, letting go of her hands and jogging up the stairs. He rummaged through his drawers for a few minutes before finding the box he was looking for, running back downstairs as he held it behind his back.

"Braeden," he started, making his way back toward her slowly. "In my life, I have been beaten, bruised, and all but destroyed. I've been betrayed, I've had my heart broken, and I thought that I was destined for a life of solitude. But then I met you. And I was scared, I admit, that I would end up getting hurt again, because that's all the universe wanted for me. But despite that, I couldn't _not_ take a chance with this strong, beautiful, amazing woman that graced me with her presence. So I did. And even though a lot has happened over the year I've known you, including me dying and coming back, I can honestly say that this was one of the happiest years I've had…probably in my entire life. Because I was with you. And since I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and it has recently been revealed to me that my girlfriend gives me the kind of look that a woman gives a man that she wants to spend the rest of her life with, I am asking you one of the hardest simple questions ever."

He stopped in front of her, kneeling down on one knee and pulling out the small ring box as he opened it. "Will you marry me?"

She grinned at him. "You sure know how to improv."

"I do," he said, grinning just as big as she was.

"You should consider doing it professionally," she joked. "I mean, a ring and everything."

He shrugged. "It was my mom's."

"Oh," she said, looking at the ring before her eyes met his again.

"Are you gonna answer?" he asked, raising a brow at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, a forced innocence on her face. "What was the question again?"

He laughed again, starting to pull the ring back. "Well, I mean, if you don't want to –"

"Yes!" she said, grabbing the hand that held the ring. "Of course I want to marry you."

He stood up, kissing her hungrily as he was somehow able to pull the ring out of the box and find her ring finger. Once it was in place, she pulled out of the kiss to admire it on her finger.

"I'm not really a ring person," she said. "But I think I like this one."

"Good," he said. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, pulling him into another kiss.

''''''''''

Lydia woke up to her phone ringing, disoriented as she woke up in a room that wasn't her own. She smelled Stiles and relaxed, shifting back into his arms as she grabbed her phone and answered it.

"Hello?" she greeted softly, not bothering to be too quiet since Stiles was stirring next to her.

"Honey, where have you been?" her mom asked on the other end, worry clear in her voice.

"I slept over at Stiles'," she explained, rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake up. The sun was barely up. Why was her mom calling this early?

"Lydia –"

"Don't worry, we just slept," Lydia assured her.

"Well, as glad as I am that you're working things out with Stiles," Natalie said. "I wish that you would have let me know."

"Sorry," she said. "It just kind of…happened. Is Dad still there?"

"No," Natalie told her. "He went to his hotel."

"Okay," she nodded. "I'm sorry about last night. I just…I couldn't handle it."

"I know," her mom said. "But he really does want to talk to you."

"Yeah?" she said. "Well, I don't really care what he wants right now."

Just because she realized that she hadn't been awful to the people who had been there for her, didn't mean that she wasn't still upset with him for not even trying.

"Lydia…"

"I know," she sighed. "I shouldn't be that way, but I am."

"You're going to have to talk to him at some point," Natalie said. "You can't just ignore him forever. He's your father."

"Well, maybe he could start actually acting like one," Lydia muttered, picking at the edge of the sheet. Stiles' arm wound around her, giving her comfort.

"Well," her mom said. "That's something that you're going to have to talk to him about."

"I know," she said. "But I'm not ready to do that now. This is something that I can't just put behind me, Mom. It's going to take some time."

"Okay," Natalie told her. "I understand that, but I think that you need to tell him that yourself."

"Fine," she said. "I'll talk to you when I get home, okay?"

"All right," Natalie said. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

She hung up the phone, placing it back on the table before relaxing back into him.

"Who was that?" he asked, sleep still in his voice.

"My mom," she explained. "She's trying to convince me to talk to my dad."

"Well…it might not be a bad idea."

Raising an eyebrow, she looked back at him in surprise. "I thought that you said I had every right to be mad at him?"

"And you do," he told her. "But talking to him might help."

"I know what he's going to say," she said, shrugging. "This isn't the first thing he wasn't here for. He'll apologize profusely and probably try to make up for it by buying me something. But this isn't missing a dance recital or a spelling bee, Stiles. His granddaughter died, and he couldn't even walk through the fucking door. I can't just get over that with a new pair of shoes."

"I know," he said, brushing her hair away from her face and kissing her cheek. "You don't have to talk to him if you aren't ready, but at least think about it? It might actually do you both some good."

Sighing, she shifted around to face him and placed her hand on his cheek. God she had missed him so much. "Okay. I'll think about it. I'm not promising anything, though."

"That's okay," he said, resting his hand on top of hers. She rubbed her thumb across it and made a face at the stubble that had grown there.

"When was the last time you shaved?" she asked him.

"It's been a few days," he admitted. "I was thinking about growing a beard."

"Please don't," she told him. "Beards look nice and all, but I don't think I'd like beard burn when I make out with my boyfriend."

"What about in more…intimate places?" he asked, wagging his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She rolled her eyes with a smile and pushed him away slightly. "Especially not there! I do not want to have to walk through school dealing with that kind of chafing."

"Fine," he conceded. "I'll shave."

"Good," she said.

He captured her lips in a kiss, but it didn't last long before his whiskers started scratching her. She pulled out of the kiss and placed her finger on his lips. "Go shave, I'm getting beard burn already."

''''''''''

"Would you just tell me why we're going to Derek's?"

"To get Moby Dick," Isaac explained.

"Why do we need to get Moby Dick?" Malia asked, confused.

"Because you called the movie based off of it 'the one about the whale'," he told her, raising an eyebrow as they made it up the final set of stairs. "Which means you need to read it."

"If that was the only reason," she said. "Then I actually have a tablet that we can download it on. Or we can go to the library."

"Why go to that trouble when we can just get it from Derek?" he asked.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him right before he knocked on the door. "Isaac, what's going on?"

"Nothing," he said. She raised an eyebrow, and he sighed, placing his hands on her arms. "An old friend got into town last night, and I want you to meet her."

"Her?" she asked, confused. "Is this someone from France, because if it is, than I _really_ don't want to know –"

"She's not from France," he assured her. "This isn't some ex-fling or something like that. She's from Beacon Hills…and South America for a time, but I met her in Beacon Hills."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Just come on," he said. He knocked on the door, and it opened immediately to reveal a dark haired girl about her age. She wasn't sure what it was, but something about the way the girl held herself told her not to get on her bad side.

"Hey, Lahey," she said, shooting him a smirk before her gaze fell on Malia. "You must be my cousin."

"You're Cora," Malia said. If Isaac had wanted to surprise her, he had definitely succeeded.

"The one and only," Cora told her. "Come on in."

She stepped back to let them in, her eyes roaming over Malia as they made their way to the living room.

"Where's Derek?" Malia asked, feeling awkward as Cora observed her.

"Had to take care of one of his tenants," she shrugged. "Braeden ran to get some stuff from the store. It's just me."

"They trusted you to be alone?" Isaac teased.

"I'm more trustworthy than you," she shot back, still not taking her eyes off of her cousin. "God, you remind me so much of Uncle Peter."

Malia couldn't help the anger that coursed through her at the comment, and her eyes flashed blue. "I am nothing like him."

"Calm down," Cora said, putting her hands up in surrender. "I meant in looks. You look a lot like him."

"Oh," she said, taking a deep breath. "Well, I already knew that."

"With that reaction," Cora said. "I can only assume that you've met him."

"Unfortunately," Malia muttered. "There's a reason I go by Tate instead of Hale."

"Well, I don't exactly blame you," Cora admitted, sitting on the couch and pulling her legs up. "Peter's definitely not what I remember growing up."

Malia sat down on the other side of the couch, her brow furrowed. "How did you remember him?"

"The fun loving uncle," she said, shrugging. "Piggy-back rides, wrestling around, snuck you cookies before dinner even when Mom said no. But apparently he's always been pretty power-hungry, I was just too young to see it."

"So when did you see it?" Malia asked. It wasn't that she cared about Peter at all. But it was nice to know that some people had some pleasant memories of her sperm donor.

"When I came back the last time," Cora explained. "Especially after finding out that he killed my sister to become an alpha. We still worked with him – mainly because we didn't have much of a choice – but it was never the same."

"So basically he was always a bad guy," she said. "That's why your mom made sure he didn't know that I existed."

"Yeah," Cora nodded. "But sadly, you can't pick your parents. But since you say you're nothing like him, than we don't have anything to worry about, right?"

"No, you don't," Malia said, becoming defensive. "I didn't grow up with his influence. I didn't really grow up with anyone's influence until a year or so ago."

"That's right," her cousin nodded slowly. "You were a legit coyote for a while. How many jokes has this one made about it?"

She gestured to Isaac, and Malia rolled her eyes as she laughed. "About a million."

"Only a million?" Cora asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're losing your touch, Isaac."

"I'm trying to be nice," he shrugged. "But sometimes I just can't help myself."

"He's completely insufferable," Malia said.

"Oh, you don't have to tell me," Cora told her. "I think anyone who's met him will agree to that."

"Hey," Isaac cut in. "I appreciate the cousin bonding, but do you really have to hate on me to bond?"

The two girls looked at each other for a moment, playful smirks on their faces before turning back to him to answer in unison. "Yes."

"Fine," he sighed, flopping into the chair. "Whatever brings you guys closer."

''''''''''

Lydia made her way down the stairs, hearing Stiles talking in the kitchen. She had fallen back to sleep after talking to her mother, and had woken up again to find herself alone in bed.

Walking into the kitchen, she paused at the Sheriff sitting at the kitchen table in civilian clothes, drinking a cup of coffee. Stiles was at the stove, messing with something in a skillet. It smelled wonderful.

"Hi, Lydia," John said, giving her a smile. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept fine," she said. Actually, she had slept better than she had in weeks. "When did you get home?"

"A couple of hours ago," he told her. "I had a lot of paperwork to catch up on."

"Busy week?" she asked, sitting down across from him at the table.

He shrugged, putting down his cup and glancing over the newspaper. "No busier than usual."

He was acting like it was completely normal to find his son's girlfriend had spent the night after weeks of not talking. She wasn't completely sure how to handle it.

"That's good, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Just the usual DUIs and delinquency."

"Oh," she said. "Good."

Stiles turned off the stove and dished out whatever he was cooking onto plates and brought them over to the table.

"You didn't have to cook for me," Lydia told him as he set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of her.

"Of course I do," he said, sitting down with his own after handing one to his father. "It's even healthy. Egg whites and turkey bacon."

The Sheriff rolled his eyes as he took a bite. "I can have regular bacon every now and then, you know."

"We'll save that for special occasions," Stiles told him.

"I'd have to say this is a special occasion," John insisted.

"Why?" Lydia asked, looking at Stiles in confusion. Was there a birthday or anniversary that she didn't know about?

"Because you guys have made up," he answered like it was obvious. "And I have my favorite red head around again."

"Strawberry blonde," Stiles corrected automatically.

Lydia smiled, realizing that she had missed the Sheriff as much as she missed Stiles. The Stilinski family had been home for her for a while, and she didn't realize how much she really needed them.

"Thank you," Lydia said. "I was actually kind of nervous about seeing you."

"Why?" John asked.

"I haven't been the best…person the past few weeks, and I wasn't sure how you felt about any of it," she admitted, picking at her eggs. As good as it smelled, her appetite still wasn't back completely.

"Lydia," John said, making her look at him. "Grief…it does horrible things to people. But if we don't have people who love us there to help, then you can't get better. At least, that's my experience. So I'm not going to be upset with you because you're having a tough time."

"Thank you," she told him sincerely, unable to help the tears that made their way to her eyes. She hated being so emotional all the time, but she couldn't help it. "That means a lot."

Stiles took her hand under that table and squeezed it gently, giving her a small smile.

"Are you gonna eat?" the Sheriff asked, eyeing her plate with a creased brow.

"I'm actually not very hungry," she said. "It smells amazing, but I haven't had much of an appetite lately."

"Okay," he nodded, but the concern didn't disappear. "I just wanted to make sure that you weren't sick or anything."

"I'm not," she assured. "I promise. Just not very hungry."

Stiles stood up, picking up his empty plate and putting it in the sink. "I'm going to go get dressed real quick."

"Okay," Lydia said. "I'm going to try to finish this food. It's too good to go to waste."

"If you can't eat it by the time I get done, I'll eat it for you," he told her, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back."

He made his way upstairs, leaving Lydia and John in the kitchen.

"So," he said after a minute, leaning forward onto the table. "Stiles filled me in on what's going on."

"What's going on?" she asked, not sure what he meant.

"About the…" he gestured around, but she wasn't getting it. "The whole…depression thing."

"Oh," she said, looking down at her hands. "That. I'm not sure about it or not, but I have all of the symptoms for it."

"It's okay if you're not sure," he told her. "But you might want to talk to Melissa about it. She could probably help more than Stiles and me."

"I plan on it," she admitted. "I just…wasn't willing to admit it until last night, so it hasn't come up, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and put his hand on top of hers. "I may not be able to help with the treatment part of it, but I want you to know that I'm here for you."

"Thank you," she told him. "I just wish I had caught it, or accepted it, before some of the awful things that I said to Stiles, and how I treated everyone else."

"Well, I'm not sure about everyone else," John said. "But I can tell you that it's going to take a lot more than a few harsh words for Stiles to give up on you."

"That makes me feel a little bit better," she said, a smile playing on her face.

She heard Stiles come down the stairs, and he made his way back into the kitchen. "So, I was thinking that maybe we could stop by Derek's."

"Why?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said. "But Cora texted me, and she's apparently in town, so I thought that we could swing by and see her? Unless you don't want to."

"No," she told him. "That sounds good. We may not be best friends, but we don't hate each other either. Besides, I need to talk to Derek about maybe starting up training again. A way to help with…everything."

"Let's go, then," he said, giving her a grin.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	31. Chapter 31

**This chapter is a little long-winded, but it is the last chapter before the epilogue, so I figured it would be okay. Again, I want to thank you guys for the support throughout this story. I know I've done some things that you hated - I hated them, too - but thank you for sticking with me. I love you guys so much.**

* * *

"Why are you making me hit a bag?"

"Because it's part of the training."

Lydia looked at Derek, raising a brow at him. "I was sparring with you the last time I trained."

"That was almost six months ago," he told her. "You need to be eased back into it."

"I think a week of being eased back into it should be enough," she said.

"It's been six months," he reiterated. "And your body has been through a lot, including surgery. I think it's better to be safe than sorry."

"And I'm telling you that I'll be okay," she insisted. She had been training with him again for about a week, as soon as the surgeon from the accident had cleared her. She already had all the knowledge for sparring, now she just needed to put it back into practice.

Except that he wasn't letting her, and all it was doing was pissing her off.

"You do remember that I can hear your heartrate, right?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I monitor it when we train, as well as your breathing, and you're not back to where you were last time we trained."

"That doesn't have anything to do with sparring," she argued, knowing full well that it did. How long she could last in fight without getting winded was extremely important, especially when she was surrounded by the supernatural. "I still know how to fight."

"Let me fight her."

Cora made her way into the training room, dressed in workout clothes and her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"She's not fighting anyone yet," Derek told her. Lydia didn't miss how his tone went from one of a friend trying to be helpful to a stern authority figure. She had to fight not to smile in amusement. Although anyone thinking that they had any kind of authority over Cora Hale deserved to be laughed at."

"Look," Cora said. "I know that you're probably afraid of hurting her or something, but if she wants to fight someone, she should be able to. I promise I'll go easy on her."

"I don't want you to go easy on me," she snapped, narrowing her eyes. Lydia could very well hold her own.

"Are you sure?" Cora asked, raising a brow at her. "Because I don't know if you really want to do that."

"I can hold my own," she shot back. It may have been a while since she had actually sparred with someone, but she still knew how to fight.

"No one's fighting anyone," Derek interjected. "Right now, we are building your strength and stamina back up."

"Come on, Der," Cora said. "She obviously wants to fight. Let me give her one."

Derek looked between the two girls for a moment before sighing. "Fine. One spar. But if I say stop, you stop, got it?"

"Got it," Cora said, turning to Lydia with a smirk. "What do you say, Red? Wanna fight?"

"Absolutely," she answered with a smirk of her own. "And it's strawberry blonde."

They quickly moved over to the mats, facing off as they both waited for the other to make the first move. Lydia studied Cora, trying to figure out her strategy. Before she could think too much, she noticed Cora's muscles tensing before she charged forward.

Lydia blocked her blow, trying to get in a punch of her own. Cora saw it coming and grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her, causing her to cry out.

"Cora!" Derek warned.

"I'm fine!" Lydia told him. Cora pushed her away, another smirk growing on her face. She allowed the anger that was constantly just below the surface to boil over, quickly positioning her feet before spinning around to kick Cora in the head. The younger Hale ducked just in time, swinging her leg out and kicking Lydia's out from under her.

Her back hit the mat hard, knocking the breath out of her. She closed her eyes as the pain coursed through her, making note that Cora was standing above her.

After a few seconds she could breathe again, and Cora held out a hand to help her up. Taking it, Lydia grasped the other girl's hand tightly before jerking her arm back and sending Cora toppling to the floor next to her. Before Cora could recover, Lydia was on top of her, one knee on Cora's chest as she held the girl's hands above her head.

Cora struggled, but couldn't get out from under her.

"Good move," she finally said, obviously impressed.

"I told you that I can hold my own," Lydia told her.

"You can," Cora said. "But so can I."

Cora bucked her hips up, dislodging Lydia and pushing her over as she grabbed her arm across her chest and pinned it down by wrapping her leg around it. She pulled slightly, and Lydia let out a strangled cry at the strain in her muscles.

"That's enough!" Derek yelled, walking over to the mats as Cora let go of her. Lydia took a few deep breaths to settle her heartbeat. Derek helped her up as she continued to breathe deeply. "Still think you're ready to fight?"

"I'm fine," she snapped, rubbing her shoulder. "I was doing pretty well."

"Pretty well isn't good enough," he told her. "And it's not where you were when we stopped. We don't have to start from the beginning, but we do have to get you back to where you were somehow."

He turned to Cora, who was standing off to the side with her hands on her hips. "And you need to realize that she doesn't have the healing capabilities that the people you're used to sparring with do! You could have broken her arm! Then what would have happened?"

"I wasn't going to do that!" she retorted. "I was barely pulling!"

"You still could have injured her!" he argued. "We're not here to injure, we're here to train."

"Do you think any threat we have is going to care about her not being able to heal?" Cora asked. "She needs to know how to defend herself, and we can't be soft on her because she's fragile!"

"Standing right here!" Lydia snapped, taking a step towards the younger Hale. "I'm _not_ fragile! I am not weak! Just because I can't heal as fast as you guys, or as strong as you are, doesn't mean I can't take care of myself!"

"That's not what we're saying, Lydia," Derek said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She brushed him off, turning her glare to him.

"Isn't it though?" she asked. "I can't heal like you, so you have to hold back in training. I'm not as strong as you, so I have no chance of winning a fight if they have the strength that you do. Everyone's going to be stuck protecting me because I'm too weak to do it myself."

"Lydia –"

"Stop!" she said. "I know that I can't protect myself, or anyone else around me for that matter, but I wanted to change that. That's why I wanted to learn to fight in the first place. But obviously nothing I do is going to make it better if I don't have supernatural speed and strength."

She rolled her shoulder one last time before walking to her duffel and pulling out her water.

"Except that you do have something supernatural," Derek said thoughtfully.

"Yeah," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I have voices in my head that help me find dead bodies. So great."

"Except that you have more than that now," he insisted. "Remember?"

"If you're talking about the burst or white energy that comes out of my hands when I scream, I don't really know if I can even do that again."

Derek smirked. "The only thing you can do is try."

''''''''''

Isaac closed the front door reluctantly, not wanting to Malia to leave. The more time he spent with her, the more he liked her, and the less he wanted her to not be around him. It probably wasn't fair to her that he was getting so attached, because nothing could happen with her while he was still grieving, but he couldn't help it.

"You okay there?"

He turned around to see Scott staring at him with an amused expression on his face.

"I'm fine," Isaac told him. "I just spaced for a minute."

"Sure…" Scott said. "Why don't you just ask her out?"

"I can't do that," he admitted, making his way to the living room. "It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Why wouldn't it be fair to her?" Scott asked. "You like her, she likes you. So ask her out."

He hesitated, wondering if he should talk to Scott about it. Yes, Scott might be the one who understood the most, but he had already grieved and moved on. Isaac wasn't sure if he could do that yet or not. But Scott was one of his closest friends if he was being honest, so it would make sense for him to talk about it.

"It wouldn't be fair to her because of Allison," Isaac told him. "I…my time in France wasn't exactly helpful in dealing with everything. All that it accomplished was giving me somewhere to run. So coming back here brought out everything that I had buried. So I'm still working through everything, and it wouldn't be fair to her to be with her while I'm doing that."

"Oh," Scott said, sitting next to him on the couch. "I get that completely. I mean, Allison and I weren't even together anymore, but it still took me a while to start things up with Kira again, you know? But you and Allison…"

"We weren't exactly together, either," Isaac said.

"But you still had something," his alpha assured him. "Something strong."

"Not as strong as you two," he admitted, tears springing to his eyes. "You guys had this…this epic love. Romeo and Juliet type. I mean, she died…she died in your arms, admitting that she still loved you. And I just…if you can move on from that and find someone else, than I should be able to. But I can't."

Scott placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I'm not going to say it's easy. It's exactly the opposite of that. But I can tell you that if you're waiting for it to stop hurting…then you won't ever move on with anyone."

"It still hurts for you, too?" Isaac asked him. He knew it was a stupid question. Of course Scott still hurt.

"Some days more than other," Scott told him. "But I still love Kira and want to be with her."

"So if Allison somehow ever came back," Isaac started. "If she showed up on your doorstep and asked you to take her back…you would stay with Kira?"

Scott looked taken aback, but thought for a moment before answering. "I would like to think so. I mean, I would still want to be a part of her life, but I don't think that I would leave Kira like that. Are you saying you'd do that with Malia?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I haven't had the chance to be in a relationship with either of them, so I don't know."

"Why are you even thinking about that?" Scott asked. "Even if you would choose Allison, there's no way that can happen. You can love people and still miss the ones that are gone."

"So you think that I should ask Malia out even if I haven't moved on yet?" he asked.

"No," Scott told him. "What I'm saying is that you shouldn't let missing someone hold you back. If you don't feel that you're ready, then don't do it. But you're always going to be grieving the people you loved, Isaac. I think you know that."

He did. He had lost a lot of people in his life, and he still missed them all. His brother, his parents, Erica, Boyd, Allison…even the baby now.

"But what if I lose her, too?" he asked. He didn't want to admit just how afraid of that he was.

Scott took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "The lives that we lead…you have to be able to take that risk."

Isaac nodded slowly, taking it all in. "I guess I have a lot to think about."

"Take some time," Scott told him. "But remember that I'm here, okay? Any time that you need to talk."

"I will," he said. "Thanks, Scott."

His alpha smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder again. "Any time."

''''''''''

"Are you sure you don't mind me using your shower?" Lydia asked Cora. They had been working on her new abilities for close to an hour, but she couldn't produce anything.

She was trying not to be too frustrated.

"It's not like you haven't used it before," Cora told her with a shrug.

"True," Lydia nodded. "But it wasn't exactly yours, then."

"I don't care," she said. "As long as you clean up after yourself."

"Thanks," Lydia said. She leaned down to go through her duffel bag to find a change of clothes, pausing when she saw a flash of pink under the bed. "What's this?"

"Nothing," Cora said, pulling it out and placing it next to her on the bed. The pattern was beautiful, and Lydia couldn't help but appreciate it. "Just something I picked up in South America."

Lydia raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't really strike me as the girl who actually likes pink."

"Well, you don't really know me then, do you?" she quipped. Lydia narrowed her eyes at the girl. There was something off about how she was reacting.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Nothing," Cora told her, trying too hard to be casual. "I actually really like pink."

"Which is why that blanket is literally the only pink thing you have," she said, pulling her change of clothes out and crossing her arms. She wasn't trying to pry, but the way that Cora had reacted was too weird for what she was saying to actually be true.

Cora sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. If you're going to be so insistent about it, I bought it for you."

"For me?" she asked, confused. "Why would you buy me something?"

"Because…" she hesitated, refusing to look Lydia in the eye. "Derek didn't tell me about the accident."

Lydia's breath caught as she looked between Cora and the blanket. The blanket meant for her daughter.

"The last time we talked," she continued. "You had just found out that it was a girl. Things were apparently kind of crazy after the accident, so he didn't think to call me and tell me."

"You…" Lydia paused, her voice breaking. "You bought this for the baby?"

Cora shrugged. "I thought that it would be nice. Babies are a good thing, right? I mean, first baby of the Pack is pretty important, you know? But when I got here and Derek and Braeden told me, I figured it would be best to not tell you about it because I didn't think that you would want it. But…that didn't work out."

Lydia's vision blurred as tears came to her eyes. Despite that, she tried to keep her composure. "I…Can I have it, actually? It's beautiful."

"You want it?" Cora asked, her eyes widening as she looked up at Lydia in surprise.

Lydia nodded. "If I can. I've uh…I've been working through a lot of things the past couple of weeks, and I'm done with trying to get rid of all the reminders."

"That's…great," Cora told her. She picked up the blanket and held it out to her. "Take it, please."

"I'm gonna take a shower first," Lydia said. "But I'll grab it when I go, okay?"

"Okay," Cora nodded. "Let me…let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Will do." She made her way to the bathroom, closing the door and getting into the shower quickly.

She turned on the water at full force, letting the water run over her face. Turning around, she wet her hair as she took deep breaths to calm herself. She didn't want to cry. Not until she got home. But all she could think about was how perfect that the blanket would've gone in the nursery. She could see it perfectly hanging over the side of the crib when she would've brought Addyson home from the hospital. She would've used it at the end of the bed when Addyson got too old for a crib. Kept her warm in the colder nights when an extra blanket was needed. She could imagine curling up with a chestnut haired little girl on the couch watching the Little Mermaid under that blanket.

A sob escaped her, and she couldn't hold it back anymore. She broke down, slowly sitting down in shower, letting the water cascade around her. Holding a hand over her mouth, she tried to be quiet so no one worried about her. That was the last thing she needed right then.

She wasn't sure how long she had cried, but by the time the sobs had started to slow down a soft knock sounded from the door and she held her breath.

"Lydia?" Derek asked. "Are you okay in there?"

She took a deep breath before trusting her voice. "I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute."

Washing her face quickly, she turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel before stepping out. She dried off and threw on the change of clothes, wrapping her hair in a towel and stepping out.

Derek was sitting on Cora's bed, the blanket in his lap as he ran his hand over it. "It's a beautiful blanket."

"It's perfect," Lydia agreed. "It would've gone really well in the nursery."

"Are you sure that you want it?" he asked, looking up at her. There was such compassion in his eyes. When she had first met him, she wouldn't have believed that he was even capable of that. "I don't want you to take it because you think you have to."

"No, I want it," Lydia told him. "I promise."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, putting the blanket back on the bed and standing up. "I, uh… I could heard you crying."

"I'm okay," she assured him. "I just…the blanket brought up a lot of what-ifs and I…somedays I just need to have a good cry."

"Okay," he nodded.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier," she said. "You didn't need that, and I'm still trying to deal with all my…stuff. Acting out tends to be my default. It's the reason Stiles and I almost broke up."

"You almost broke up?" he asked, surprised. "I know things were tense, but I didn't know that they were that bad."

"Everything's okay now," Lydia said. "But it almost wasn't. I'm trying to do better, though."

"It's going to take time," he told her. "After the fire…I was angry all the time. It took years to get over that, and I'm still not completely sure I am. But I promise that it gets…easier over time."

"I know," she said. "I know how slow it can be, though, and that's what frustrates me the most."

"Yeah," he said. "But if you need me, I'm here. Even if it's just for a punching bag."

She laughed at that, nodding. "Thank you, Derek. For everything."

She gave him a quick hug before heading over to the bed and picking up the blanket. "It really would have gone perfect in the nursery you were going to buy."

She turned around in time to see his eyes widen. "How did you –"

"As much as you hinted about me planning the damn thing?" she asked. "How could it _not_ be what you were going to get?"

"It still surprises me the things you can figure out," he told her, shaking his head. "Anything else you figured out?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I know that you and Braeden are engaged."

He blinked in surprise. "How?"

"Braeden left a bridal magazine in the living room the other day," she explained. "You don't have to not tell anyone because of me. We need the good news right about now."

"When do you think I should tell them?" he asked.

She thought for a moment before shooting him a grin. "Tonight. Have everyone over for dinner and announce it."

"That's kind of short notice –"

"It's only two-thirty," she told him. "I can even call everyone if you want. Just give me a list."

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so she knew that she had won. "Okay, fine. Let me okay it with Braeden and we'll get everybody over here."

"Yes!" she exclaimed, pumping her fist. He just laughed.

"In the meantime," he continued. "Are you hungry?"

She thought about it, and her stomach growled. "I actually am."

''''''''''

Lydia watched as Derek and Braeden stood up, grabbing everyone's attention in the living room. Their dinner wasn't anything fancy, just Thai food in the living room with the entire pack, parents included. Well, all of the parents except her mother. Natalie was still working through some things as well.

"There's a reason that we invited you all over tonight," Derek started, looking somewhat awkward as he stood there. "We wanted to wait a little while longer to tell you guys, but I was reminded that some good news would probably be good for us right about now."

She looked at Stiles, whose eyes had narrowed in confusion. Taking his hand, she squeezed it gently and giving him a smile.

"Just get it out already," Chris teased him good naturedly.

"Derek and I are engaged," Braeden said, beating Derek to the punch. She unclasped the chain around her neck that was hidden under her shirt and let the ring slide off, placing it on her finger as everyone cheered and clapped.

They sat back down, talking to Melissa and as she asked them questions about the wedding. Everyone was talking excitedly, and Lydia just took it all in. It was about time that something good happened, and everyone deserved to be excited.

"I'm guessing you already knew?" Stiles asked, giving her a smile.

"I might have figured it out," she admitted. "Braeden left a magazine out the other day when I was training."

"How's that going by the way?" he asked. "You haven't really talked that much about it."

"It's…going," she told him. "I'm kind of rusty, so we're trying to work through that, and we're trying to get control over my new abilities."

"Well," he said. "I'm sure that you could still beat me in a fight."

"No offense, Stiles," she said. "But I really don't think that's saying very much yet."

He gasped dramatically, his jaw dropping open dramatically. "Offense taken."

Lydia rolled her eyes, leaning into him as she dug into her food. Her appetite had slowly been coming back since she started training again. Her body needed the energy to train and fight, so it must have finally given up on not eating.

She watched as everyone enjoyed each other's company, and she couldn't help but think back to when she had wanted to do it more because of Addyson. She had wanted her to grow up with a Pack that spent time together like this. How she had vowed to make sure it happened.

"We can make this a regular thing, right?" she asked Stiles, smiling when she saw Scott and Kira curled up next to each other, both of them making heart eyes at the other.

"I don't see why not," he told her. "Why?"

"I just want us to do this more often," she told him with a shrug.

Just because Addyson wasn't there didn't mean that they couldn't have the happy times that she had wanted.

''''''''''

Malia ran to the door as the sound of frantic knocking made its way through the house. What could be so wrong that someone was knocking like that so late? She opened the door, surprised at who was there.

"Isaac?" she asked. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he told her. "I mean, nothing's wrong."

"Then why the hell are you knocking like there is?" she asked him. "You're lucky my dad's at work or he probably would've shot you."

Isaac shrugged. "I've already been attacked by one of his bear traps, I think I can handle a bullet."

"Just get in here," she told him, stepping back to let him in.

"You know," he said. "This is the first time that I've actually been invited into your house."

"You've been in my house before?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Just around it. Scott and Stiles were the ones who snuck in to try to find something that still had your scent on it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that he was stalling. "Why are you really here, Isaac?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in nervousness. "I, uh…I had something to tell you."

"You couldn't tell me over the phone?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Or at dinner earlier?"

"No," he said. "I didn't actually know that I was going to tell you until about…ten minutes ago."

"Tell me what?" she asked, getting frustrated. Would he just get to the point?

"That I like you," he blurted out. "I like you a lot."

She looked at him, confused. "I already knew that."

"True," he said. "But I'm…I'm done waiting. I want to be with you because I really, really like you, and I don't want to not be with you anymore."

"What…what about…" she tried to ask, completely dumbfounded. It had only been a few weeks since they had talked about it, and she hadn't really seen anything different.

"I still miss her," he admitted. "But I realized that I'm never going to stop missing her. Just like I've never stopped missing my mom, or my dad, or my brother, or my packmates. But I can miss her and still move on. I can still miss her and be in love."

"Love?" she asked. She wanted it to come out teasing, but she was so shocked that it came out as vulnerable as she felt. Honestly, she didn't know exactly how she felt about him, but just that word was making her think.

"I'm not saying that I'm completely sure that I love you," he assured her, stepping towards her slowly. "But I'm saying that I definitely could, and that I don't want to wait anymore. If you'll have me."

She simply continued to stare at him in shock, taking in the openness and vulnerability on his face. After a moment, nervousness crept back into his eyes, and she realized that she was taking too long to respond.

"Yes," she blurted. "Yes, of course I'll have you."

She grabbed his face and brought his lips to her, and it felt like she was on fire. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She wanted more of him. Deepening the kiss, she ran her hands through his hair not noticing that he was moving them until her back hit the wall. He growled when she pulled her hair, and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine.

She pulled away, needing air, but he moved down to her neck and starting kissing and sucking at her pulse point. She gasped at the sensation, realizing just how long it had been since she'd had that kind of contact.

Way too fucking long.

She grinded onto him, letting him know just how much she wanted him. He groaned, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through her. His mouth found its way back to hers, kissing her hungrily.

"We…shouldn't," he said in between kisses. "Not…yet."

She pulled back, searching his face. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want to fuck me."

She moved her hips to make a point, and he closed his eyes as he held back a groan. "That's not the point Malia. I just think that I should take you on a few dates first."

"We went to a movie," she reminded him. "That's a typical date, isn't it?"

"We went as friends," he insisted. "It wasn't a real date."

"Then what do you suggest?" she asked, slightly exasperated. She was completely fine with sleeping with him and going on a breakfast date. But if he insisted on taking her on the date first, she was okay with that.

"There's a twenty-four hour diner," he suggested, raising his eyebrow in question.

She thought for a moment, biting her lip as he looked at her. As much as she wanted to jump his bones on that very wall, some fries and a shake sounded really good. "Fine. We can go on a date."

He stepped back from the wall, and she untangled her legs from him and stood as he held out his hand. "Let's go."

''''''''''

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked as she placed the duffel bag on her bed and zipped it open.

"I want to show you something," she told him simply. "You know the box I made for Addyson last week?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding unsure. "What about it."

"I have something to add to it," she said, pulling out the blanket that Cora had gotten her. She watched him marvel at it for a moment, gently tracing the pattern across it.

"This is amazing," he muttered. "Where'd you get it?"

"Cora got it for us," She told him. "She got it before she knew about the accident, and she gave it to me today."

"She, uh…" he cleared his throat, getting choked up as he continued to stare at the blanket. "She must've been pretty excited to get something for her."

"Yeah," Lydia nodded, tears filling her own eyes as she watched Stiles. "That's what I thought."

She reached under her bed, pulling out a box decorated in pink with _Addyson_ written across the lid. Opening it, she revealed the high-tops that Kira had bought, the Mets bib they had used to announce that she was a girl, and some onesies that her mom and Melissa had bought the day after they had found out. There was also a small photo album that held the sonogram pictures.

She let Stiles admire the blanket for a few minutes longer before taking it and placing it in the box and putting it back under the bed.

"There," she said. "In its place."

"Its place shouldn't be a box under the bed," he told her, his voice quiet as he looked at his hands. "None of that stuff should have that place. It should be worn and used by our little girl, but it can't."

"I know," she nodded, the tears beginning to spill over. "I hate that it's just being put in a box, but I don't know what else to do with it, Stiles. I can't just have it out, at least not yet, because it's too painful to see every day, but I refuse to get rid of it, either. Because those are her things, however few they are. They're…they're all I have left of her."

"I'm not saying it like that," he assured her, pulling her into him and kissing the top of her head. "I just…I miss her. I want her here with us."

"I do, too," she admitted. "But…can I ask you something?"

"What?" he asked, leaning back to look at her.

"Can we decide not to have any more?" she said. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, so she explained. "At least, not until we're away from Beacon Hills and somewhat safe from the craziness that is our lives."

"You want to leave Beacon Hills?" he asked. "Like, for good?"

"Not for good," she told him. "Live close by to help the Pack obviously, but…I don't want to be pregnant in Beacon Hills again. I'd be too scared that this would happen again, and I can barely handle one. At least if we're not in Beacon Hills, the risk isn't so high."

He was silent for a moment, and Lydia started to worry about what he was going to say. Finally, he gave her a nod. "Okay. I can agree to that. But we'll have to be _extremely_ careful to make sure it doesn't happen."

"We can do that," she told him with a smile. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too," he told her, leaning down to capture her lips in his.

She wasn't sure how long it would be until she felt safe enough to even think about having another child – definitely after getting her degree and probably marriage – but she knew that if she ever felt safe again, that she wanted to do it with Stiles. It would always be Stiles.

And even though everything was far from perfect, she knew that if she had him by her side, then everything would end up being okay.

* * *

 **As always, I'd love to know what you think!**


	32. Chapter 32

**I'm sorry that this is so late! I've probably rewrote this epilogue three times, and with classes starting up this week - as well as taking a nineteen hour course load - I literally finished this ten minutes ago.**

* * *

Lydia walked down the hallway to the make-shift bridal room – an empty apartment in Derek's complex – taking a deep breath. She had just gotten into a shouting match with the florist, which was a bad idea on her part considering Lydia's knack for screaming.

"Everything okay?" Cora asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Perfect," she said, giving her a smile. "They will have everything there within the hour."

"Awesome," the younger Hale sighed. "I don't know how I'd do this whole maid of honor thing without you. She should have given that title to you."

"You're Derek's sister," Lydia reasoned. "Of course Braeden would want you to be the Maid of Honor. How's she doing, by the way?"

The hesitation on Cora's face was enough of an answer.

"She's freaking out, isn't she?"

"I've never seen her like this."

With a short nod, Lydia made her way into the room, where Braeden was nowhere to be found, but Malia was sitting by the door.

"She's locked herself in," she explained. "I can't get her to come out."

"Well, at least there aren't any windows for her to escape through in there," Lydia quipped, smoothing out her dress before knocking on the door. "Braeden? It's Lydia. Can I come in?"

"I'm fine," she snapped through the door, her voice hard. Lydia could hear the fear underneath the tough exterior. "I just need a few minutes."

"You've been in there for half an hour," Malia called out.

Lydia shot her a look. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," she shrugged, standing up and walking across the room and busing herself with the makeup on the vanity.

"You're not going to be ready in time for your big day if you don't get out of there," Lydia reasoned.

"Is that really such a bad thing?" Braeden asked.

Sighing, Lydia closed her eyes for a moment before speaking. "You don't really mean that, Braeden. I know how much you love Derek, and you wouldn't have gone through all of this stuff for a wedding if you didn't want to marry him."

"This is just so _real_ ," she said, her voice more vulnerable than Lydia had ever heard it. "I don't know if I can do this."

Lydia turned around to face Cora and Malia. "We need reinforcements."

''''''''''

"Are you sure this looks okay?"

"It looks great."

Derek took a deep breath, staring at himself in the mirror as he buttoned his tuxedo jacket. After a moment, he turned to look at Scott. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Scott nodded, standing up from the bed and making his way over to Derek. "It's perfect."

"Okay," he said. "It's just…I'm not used to seeing myself in a suit, I guess."

"It's not like we've had very many occasions to wear them," Stiles offered, messing with his tie.

"Not happy ones, anyway," Derek muttered. "Are you guys ready?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "Stiles?"

"I'll do my tie in the car," he said, leaving it to hang around his neck. It was a deep purple, because Braeden had insisted on having purple as the main color. He didn't care as long as he got to be the one to put the ring on her finger.

"Come here," he said, waving Stiles over.

"Why?" Stiles asked, confusion on his face.

"Just come here." Derek walked over to Stiles, grabbing his tie and beginning to tie it.

He sputtered as Derek worked on the tie, pushing up the knot to tighten it when he was done. Stiles squeaked, grabbing it as soon as he was done and loosening it.

"You didn't have to do it so tight," he said, smoothing it out gently before putting his jacket on.

"Let's go," Derek announced.

They made their way down the stairs of the loft, Derek grabbing his keys. "We'll carpool."

"I can drive the bike," Scott said.

"No," he said. "I'm not going to let my best man chance ruining a rented suit."

His phone rang, and he pulled it out to check the ID.

"What's up?" Stiles asked.

"It's Lydia," he told him before answering. "Lydia? Is everything okay?"

"Not really," she answered. "You need to talk to your bride."

"I thought that it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" he asked. He usually wasn't a superstitious person, but he wasn't going to take his chances in the current situation.

"It never says anything about talking to her on the phone," she told him.

"Okay," he nodded. "Let me talk to her."

There was a shuffle and the click of a door opening and then slamming shut before he heard his fiancé's voice. "Hello?"

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, making his way over to the couch and sitting down.

"Fine," she told him, trying too hard to be casual.

"Bullshit," he shot back. "Cold feet?"

"No," she insisted. "Not really. I'm just…processing."

"Processing?" he asked. "You've had over a year to process."

"It just hasn't felt this real until now," she admitted.

"Yeah," he said. "I get it. Look, if you don't want to get married today, we don't have to. I told you that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, marriage or not."

She was silent for a moment, contemplating.

"Braeden?" he asked. "You still with me?"

"Yeah," she said. "And we're getting married tonight."

"Okay," he said. "See you at the altar?"

"Technically it's not an altar," she teased. "But yes, I'll see you at the altar. I love you."

"I love you, too."

''''''''''

Lydia watched as Derek and Braeden danced in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor, almost oblivious to the people around them. It was starting to get dark, but there were enough lanterns under the canopy to keep everything well-lit.

"Hey, sweetie," Melissa said, coming up beside her with an extra glass of champagne. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," Lydia told her. "So do you."

"Well," she said. "It's not often that I get to dress up, so I try to take advantage."

"I understand," Lydia said. She took another look around the room, admiring the various shades of purple woven in with the crème across the ceiling of the canopy, leading down to the ground. "The outside wedding and reception was a great idea."

People brushed past them as the dancefloor started to fill up again, and the Sheriff made his way over to them.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, holding out his hand in question. Melissa shifted over, gesturing to Lydia, but he raised his eyebrows at her in question.

"I think he was asking you," Lydia clarified.

"Oh," Melissa said, blinking in surprise. "Of course."

She took his hand and they made their way to the floor and started to dance.

"They look like they're having fun."

A set of arms made their way around her waist, and she leaned back into Stiles as they watched the people they loved dance.

"Do you want to have fun, too?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked back at him.

"I am having fun," he told her. "Aren't you?"

"Of course," she said.

"So how bad was Braden freaking out earlier?" he asked. "I didn't even think that she capable of freaking out."

"Pretty freaked out," Lydia admitted. "But as soon as she heard Derek's voice, she was okay."

"I personally would never think that Derek's voice is a calming thing, but to each their own."

Lydia couldn't help but snort at Stiles' remark. "It's not calming to you because you annoy him."

"Hey," he said, mocking offense. "I think we've gotten along pretty well over the years. I mean, I was one of his groomsmen."

"Yes, you have," she nodded. "I'm proud of you."

She brought one of his hands to her lips, kissing it softly. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Now come dance with me."

''''''''''

The Pack watched as Derek put the last suitcase in the back of the car, getting ready to head to the airport to start their honeymoon. It had taken quite a bit of convincing, but they had finally decided that it would be okay to leave for a couple of weeks, something they hadn't really done since coming back with Isaac.

"Are you sure that you guys are gonna be okay?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at Scott in particular.

"We'll be fine," Scott promised him. They all knew that Derek was nervous, partly because the older wolf was actually doing something for himself rather than for everybody else, and that hadn't exactly ended well in the past. "I already told you, if we really need you, we'll call you."

"I know you just said that to appease me," Derek said, a smirk on his face. "But I'm going to hold you to that promise. If we come back and Beacon Hills is in shambles, I will strangle you."

"I know you will," Scott nodded.

"Hey," Stiles said with a shrug. "If he won't call you, I will. I have no problem ruining your honeymoon for the Pack."

Derek rolled his eyes, but couldn't quite his the smile forming on his lips. "I'll keep that in mind when you get married."

With a wink in Lydia's direction, he shook Stiles' and Scott's hands, saying goodbyes.

Braeden's arms were suddenly around Lydia, squeezing her tightly.

"Thank you for all of your help," she said. "I appreciate it, and I know that Cora does, too."

"It's not a problem," Lydia assured her. "I love weddings, especially when I have a hand in planning them."

"Well, hopefully one day soon, you'll get to plan one of your own," Braeden teased. "You did catch the bouquet after all."

Rolling her eyes, Lydia sighed. "If I'm the one that's getting married next, then no one is getting married for a while."

"Married people get doctorates all the time," she sing-songed, and Lydia could definitely believe all of the champagne that the new bride had drank during the reception.

"I'll think about it," Lydia told her, gently pushing her towards the car. "But if you don't leave soon, you're going to miss your flight."

Braeden moved to say goodbye to everyone else, and Derek pulled Lydia into a hug next.

"So I guess you know that there's a hold on training for a couple of weeks," he joked.

"I figured as much," she told him. "But I think that I can manage. If I really need to train, though, I can always go to Cora."

"I would love to see that," he laughed. Then he squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of her head quickly. "Be careful, okay? And make sure that Scott calls me if anything happens. I don't care how little it is."

"I will," she assured him. "Now go. Have fun with your wife."

The newlyweds got into the car and drove off, leaving the Pack to watch after them. Once they turned down the street and out of sight, Stiles spoke up. "We're not calling them, are we?"

"Nope," was the unanimous answer.

"That's what I thought."

''''''''''

Melissa opened the door to the house, kicking her heels off as soon as she was inside. Not for the first time, it crossed her mind that she needed to create a pair of heels with the soles of her nursing shoes. She would wear them every day if that was the case.

Or she could always get the secret from Lydia.

"Are you gonna be okay?" The Sheriff asked, coming in behind her.

"I'm a big girl, John," she reminded him, making her way into the living room. "I'll be fine."

"I know," he nodded. "I just have to make sure, you know?"

"I know you do," she said. "But if you wanna stay, I have some beers in the fridge."

"I'll take one," he said. "You sit down, I'll get them."

"I can get them," she argued.

"You've been in heels all day," he reminded her, raising a brow. "I think you deserve to sit."

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before surrendering. "Fine. But only because I actually want to get out of this dress."

He chuckled as he made his way to the kitchen. "You know, if it was anyone else, I might take that the wrong way."

"Good thing it's not anyone else, then," she called back, making her way up the stairs.

There was a time that she would actually want him to take it the wrong way, if she was being honest. After all the years of basically co-parenting their boys, there was definitely a bond there. But she knew that it probably would never happen. He had loved Claudia too much to ever properly move on from her, and honestly she respected Claudia too much for that. A part of her wished that she had loved someone like that, but at the same time, she was glad that she didn't. It made moving on from Rafe a lot easier.

She quickly changed out of her dress, thankful that she had decided on one without a zipper to make it easier. Changing into sweats and a t-shirt, she decided to go ahead and take her hair down and take her makeup off. It wouldn't take too long.

By the time she had finished scrubbing her face, she heard footsteps down the hall. "Melissa?"

"In here," she said, taking the main clip out of her hair and starting on the bobby pins.

John appeared in the doorway, holding two beers in his hands. There was a mixture of hesitation and bemusement on his face. He kind of looked like a teenage boy who wasn't sure if he was allowed to be there. It might have been adorable.

"You can come in," she told him, taking on a teasing tone. "My dad doesn't have a rule against it, I promise."

He laughed, finally stepping into the room. "All these years of knowing each other, and I can honestly say that I've never been in your room."

"Well, you can't say that now," she teased him, taking the full beer from his hand and taking a drink.

"What would the neighbors think?" he asked, pretending to be scandalized.

She pretended to think for a moment before responding. "It's about damn time."

"Fair enough," he nodded, a smile on his face.

"You should hear that nosy old lady next door," she told him. "'When are you going to marry that Sheriff? He's always at your house, you might as well make an honest woman out of yourself.'"

John coughed, choking for a moment on his beer. "She thinks we're sleeping together?"

"No matter how much I tell her no, she never believes me," she shrugged. "But I'm just a little too old to care what other people think."

"Well," he said. "When you tell me things like 'I want to get out of this dress,' I can see where she gets her ideas."

Melissa rolled her eyes, putting her drink down and going back to taking her hair down. "Are you sure you're not taking that the wrong way?"

"I'm not," he told her. "But apparently other people are."

"It's stupid," she said. "Some people refuse to believe that a man and a woman can be good friends without anything happening between them."

"True," he said. "I can't tell you how many times some of my deputies have teased me when you come down to the station."

"Really?" she asked, turning to look at him, amused. She had definitely brought him dinner a lot since Stiles had gone off to college – a promise she had made to the boy to make sure his father kept eating healthy – but to think that other people thought something of it that it wasn't was definitely…interesting.

"Really," he nodded. "A few of them have dubbed you 'the Sheriff's girl.'"

"Well you can tell them that I'm nobody's girl," she told him, searching her hair for any hiding pins.

"I do," he insisted. "But it doesn't stop them."

"I imagine," she said. "Some people are ridiculous."

She watched him shrug through the mirror, bringing the bottle to his lips. "I don't think it's that ridiculous."

"You don't?" she asked, turning around and picking up her beer. She followed his hands as he crossed them over his chest, and noticed – not for the first time – that something was missing.

"No," he said. "I mean, we have known each other a long time, and we've practically been raising our kids together for just as long. Why wouldn't people think that?"

"I guess," she shrugged. "But do you really want everyone thinking something that's not true?"

He didn't respond for a moment, taking another drink as well as a deep breath. "We could always make it true."

He eyes widened in shock as she looked at him, unable to speak for a moment. "We, uh, we probably shouldn't be talking about this while we're drinking."

"You and I both know that it takes a lot more than half a beer for me to get drunk," he reminded her, giving her a look full of things left unsaid.

"Is, um…" she trailed off, not knowing how to approach the subject. "Is that why you aren't wearing your wedding ring anymore? You know, it's a little bit ironic, me noticing that you're not wearing a wedding band at a wedding…"

"I haven't been wearing it for a few weeks," he admitted, taking a few steps towards her. "I've always known that Claudia wanted me to move on, be happy, but I just couldn't imagine doing it without betraying her. That's why I kept wearing the ring. But lately, I've just felt…I've felt like she's almost been bugging me about it. It's like this little voice in my head, saying over and over again 'just kiss her, you idiot. You know you want to. You've wanted to for a long time.' That voice has been there for a long time, but I could always push it back because I didn't want Stiles to think that I was trying to replace his mother. But as he got older and was able to understand that it wouldn't be that way, and I realized that he kind of already had another mom anyway – not one that replaced her, but was a mom to him just the same – I got scared. I kept making up stupid excuses. But it's just gotten harder and harder to make those excuses."

He got a little bit closer to her, and for a second, she felt like she couldn't breathe. She hadn't felt this way since she was a teenager, and she wasn't completely sure how to take it.

"So," he continued. "I finally decided that I should listen to that little voice – if who the voice was talking about was okay with that of course – and kiss her. Is that okay?"

Slowly, she nodded, still partly in shock. He looked at her for a moment, his gaze dropping to her lips before he leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

The kiss was gentle, sweet, and nervous. In a way, it was like her first kiss all over again. She kissed him back just as gently, placing a hand on his chest.

He pulled away too soon, a goofy grin on his face.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, unable to help herself. "I know how much you loved Claudia, and I loved her, too. I don't – I don't want you to –"

"I'm sure," he told her. "I am. But if you're not, then we don't have to do anything."

She thought about it for a moment. Was she okay with it? She was friends with Claudia, and she had always pushed away any thought of anything happening because of that. But he was right. She had told both of them that she had wanted John to move on when she was gone. To be happy. For a long time, she had thought that as long as John had Stiles that he was happy. She never pushed the dating thing too much – even with other women – because he was how much he hurt over Claudia. She saw how deeply he loved. Between how deeply he loved, and how deeply Claudia had loved, Stiles had no chance in hell. Part of her hadn't have wanted John to get hurt like that again.

But if he was willing to try it. If he was willing to be with her, she knew that she would try her damned best to make sure that didn't happen. Because she loved him.

Finally, she nodded. "Okay. I'm sure."

He grinned again. "Okay."

''''''''''

Stiles phone rang, and he reached into his pocket to answer it as he tried to untangle himself from a sleeping Lydia.

"Hello?" he whispered, standing up from the bed and making his way to the hallway.

"Dude," Scott's voice came through, his voice in a whisper. "You won't believe what I just saw."

"What?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," his best friend said, excitement in his voice. "It's great. Did you know that your dad is here?"

"My dad's at your house?" he asked, confused. He knew that his dad and Melissa hung out, but this late? He looked to his dad's bedroom door. "Why?"

"I don't know," Scott said. "All I know is that your dad and my mom are curled up on the couch asleep, with a movie playing. Like…curled up _together._ "

"Are you serious?" he asked, forgetting for a moment to lower his voice. "So are they like…a thing?"

"I don't know," Scot repeated. "But they sure look like they are."

"Why didn't he tell me?" Stiles said. "If they were dating, I definitely would want to know."

"I guess we can ask them in the morning?" Scott suggested. "I really don't want to wake them up. They look kind of adorable."

"Okay," he said. "But I will be over there first thing in the morning, okay?"

He hung up, making his way back into his room, where Lydia was sitting there with bleary eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Apparently Melissa and my dad are a thing now," Stiles explained, a smile on his face.

"Really?" she asked, wide awake. "Well, it's about damn time."

''''''''''

The due date was hard. Lydia had been doing better after going to the group with Stiles, but there was something about that date that had made Lydia slowly start to fall apart again. It was probably the fact that she had hammered that date into her brain as the day that she was supposed to have her daughter in her arms. Or maybe it was the fact that she had still felt somewhat empty without Addyson, and the date was a reminder that she hadn't been able to protect her. It was most likely a lot of things at once, just like anything with grief, but instead of being excited that she had just graduated high school, she was simply trying to keep her head above water. Stiles tried to be strong for her, tried to be that rock for her, but it had affected him just as much as it had her, so both of them were just messes.

She specifically remembered that night. Stiles had come over, determined to make sure that she didn't completely break down. They had started just talking about going to Stanford – because of course both of them had gotten accepted – and making plans for classes and dorms, but it quickly turned to a conversation about whether it was right to go to Stanford.

"Did we make the right choice?" she had asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Is it really okay to go to Stanford just because Addyson isn't here with us?"

He had thought for a moment before he replied. "I think so. To me it just…it doesn't seem right go along with the plan if she isn't here for it."

That had quickly gone into a conversation of what-ifs and regrets, and they ended up curled up together under the blanket that Cora had gotten Addyson, both of them trying to keep the other together.

A year later, and it didn't seem to be much easier. Because she couldn't help but feel like she should be planning a birthday party, but all she could actually do was look at the things in her box.

She laid everything out on her bed, picking up the Mets bib with a fond smile. As much as it still hurt, she had gotten to the point where she could smile at the memories instead of wanting to block them out.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she looked up to see Stiles standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. "Hey."

"Hey," she said. "What took you so long?"

"I was trying to convince Dad to go on an actual date with Melissa," he told her, coming into the room and sitting next to her on the bed. "He was going to cancel because of the day, but I told him not to worry about it."

"That's good," she said. "He should have fun. Have something good, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes landing on something with a smile. "I still can't believe that Scott got this for her."

He picked up the stuffed wolf that was complete with a collar tag that said _Scottie_ on it. Scott had given it to them last summer, when he found out that they had made a treasure box for Addyson. He had bought when he first found out that they were keeping her, and was going to give it to them at the baby shower that never happened.

"He wanted to make sure she knew that Uncle Scottie was always watching out for her," she said, rubbing the head of the wolf lovingly.

"Do you think we would have told her?" he asked, his voice soft as he brought the wolf to his chest like a child would. "Like, she would have grown up knowing that the things that went bump in the night were real?"

"It'd be too hard not to tell her," Lydia shrugged. "She would've found out anyway, so why wouldn't we have been honest with her from day one?"

"Because two year olds can't really keep secrets?" he suggested. He reached out for the box, picking at the torn edge. It was just simple cardboard, something she had pasted scrapbook paper onto and written Addyson's name with a calligraphy marker. "This thing's been through a lot."

"Yeah," she nodded, confused at the sudden change in subject. "Cardboard's good to move with, but constantly going back and forth? It definitely has its limits."

"That's what I was thinking," he said. "That's why I kind of did something."

She narrowed her eyes at him, not sure how to take his comment. That could mean anything knowing Stiles. "What exactly did you do?"

"It's not bad," he promised, getting up from the bed and heading back toward the door. "It's in the Jeep. I'm gonna grab it real fast. Wait here."

"Stiles –"

He was already gone, his loud, excited steps already halfway down the steps. Too confused to do anything else, she stared at the doorway and waited for him to come back. She should be used to Stiles' quirks by now, but somehow he still surprised her.

His footsteps came back up the stairs, slower and heavier than before. Whatever 'something' he did was probably big.

When he came through the door, he was holding a large wooden box, stained a slate gray.

"You didn't," she said, wonder filling her as he walked over to the bed and placed the box on it. On the top was _Addyson Claudia_ in white script, with a set of two circles, one within the other, underneath. Above her name was a set of arrows crossing each other diagonally. Reverently, she traced their daughter's name. "This is…it's perfect."

"I thought so, too," he said, sitting back down next to her.

"And you designed this yourself?" she asked, looking at him in question.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I wanted it to be perfect."

"Well, you succeeded," she told him with a smile. She leaned in to kiss him, long and hard. She honestly couldn't have thought of a better way to honor their daughter. Somehow, in an odd way, it felt like she was celebrating her, instead of wallowing in grief.

They pulled out of the kiss only when they needed air. She rested her forehead against his, not taking his hands away from his face. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he said. "I'm just sorry that I didn't do it sooner."

"Don't be," she told him. "I needed this _today_."

"Me, too," he agreed. "I love you."

"I love you, too" she said. Her phone went off, and she reluctantly moved to check it.

"What's up?" he asked.

"It's a reminder," she answered. "I need to get ready for movie night."

"Are you sure that you still want to go?" he said, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "We don't have to. They'll understand."

"No," she said. "I want to go. And besides, why would I let you miss the chance to watch Scott finally watch Star Wars?"

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. "I take it back. I'll drag you kicking and screaming."

She rolled her eyes at his jest, forcing herself off of the bed and towards the vanity to get ready.

''''''''''

"Does everyone have their snacks and drinks?" Stiles asked. "Everyone's been to the bathroom? Nothing's going to interrupt this rite of passage?"

"Okay, I think that's going a little overboard," Scott said.

Stiles spun around to face his best friend, pointing a finger at him dramatically. "I am not going overboard! _Star Wars_ is a rite of passage that every person on this planet should have the honor of watching. The fact that you made it to college without seeing it is criminal!"

"Okay," Scott said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Just start the movie," Derek cut in, curled up with Braden in one of the recliners.

Stiles looked around at the Pack, who all nodded or shrugged in response, and only then did he sit down in between Scott and Lydia and pressed play.

There was something about _Star Wars_ that had always made Stiles indescribably happy. He knew that it was because his mom was the one who got him into the series, sitting at home and watching the original trilogy with him during his first sick day from kindergarten. When the prequel trilogy came out, they made it a tradition to go see it in the theaters opening weekend. After she died, watching it was a way to keep her memory alive. It was the reason that he had insisted that Lydia and him went on opening weekend for the new one, despite the fact that they both had tests to study for.

The only other thing that had made him as happy as honoring his mom through _Star Wars_ was when he had found out that he was having a daughter. He had decided as soon as they decided to keep her that he would teach their child in the ways of the Force – metaphorically speaking, unfortunately – but he had never gotten to do that. But he could honor the day that she was supposed to be born with the thing that he was most excited to share with her.

As the opening credits rolled across the screen, Stiles looked at Scott, who already looked enthralled. Part of him wanting to lean over to him and say 'I told you so,' but he wanted his best friend's first time watching it to be free from distractions, so he let it go.

Lydia leaned into him, and he put his arm around her as she settled the popcorn between them. She had been quiet since going over to Scott's, but at least she was up and out of the house, the complete opposite of what she was able to do last year. While he knew that neither of them would ever be completely over what had happened, it was nice to see it get a little bit easier.

He kissed the top of her head, shifting to get more comfortable, and finally looked at the screen to watch the movie. It wasn't often that the Pack got a night like this to enjoy, so he was going to take advantage of it.

Their lives may not be perfect, but they were still good.

* * *

 **Okay, I guess this is the time where I get mushy and emotional.**

 **I just wanted to thank you guys so much for the support that I've gotten for this story. I was kind of nervous to write about teenage pregnancy, not only because it's such a trope, but because I had read so many Stydia fics where the trope was written exceptionally well. So thank you for reading this and miraculously like this story!**

 **I don't know what I'll be writing next, or if I'll even have much time to write, but I hope to return soon! In the meantime, you can always fangirl about Stydia with me over on my tumblr (username is seetherrayne)**

 **And as always, I would love to know what you think, for old time's sake.**

 **Much love,**

 **Leela**


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